#okay but like they kind of look alike but they sound nothing alike

[xeagle-bearerx]

This Residence Evil-like game has a character that looks kind of familiar.

[celuere]

hiiiii

I AM SO ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH YOUR WRITING OMG

First time requesting something on tumblr, but if its okay, could you maybe write about reader being insecure of their (more curvy/chubby?) body and arle reassuring reader?? Nsft? I thought of something in the direction of body worship ...idk its really up to you :D hope that's okay

Hi so before I get to writing, I just wanna say that I only have experience with body dysmorphia and insecurities when it comes to being underweight, so I really hope I still hit this one on the nail, I hope nothing I‘ll be writing is offensive, if so please tell me! <3 ALSO TYSM FOR UR KIND ANON ILY SOB

BUT UUHHHHWJSBEBSNENW YES the way she wouldn’t care about her partners weight gain or loss I just- I’m so gone for her.

pairing: Arlecchino x wife!reader

context: anon request!

cw: body dysmorphia, insecurity, mirror sex, fingering, body worship, arle being a goner

I‘m btw huge ass when it comes to explaining clothes I AM SORRY😭

NSFW utc, MDNI!

With a heavy heart you stepped off of the scale. Not daring to stare at your own reflection in the mirror to your right, it‘s worse enough that you were only standing in your underwear in the middle of your bedroom.

You gained some weight again since last week. Even with the strict diet you forced yourself into, nothing changed. You even stopped exposing yourself around your husband, let alone wear clothes that highlight your body. What would she possibly think about you? Would she be ashamed to let you stay by her side this evening?

There was an upcoming charity event tonight that you were supposed to get ready for. All Harbingers and high tiers of the Fatui alike will be present, along with representatives of Teyvat’s other six nations. Even the Tsaritsa herself.

Worries of all kinds were filling up your head, so many of them that you didn’t even notice your beloved entering the bedroom and just simply… being mesmerized by the sight.

„You look breathtaking.“

That caused you to lift your head up to look at her. The words leaving her mouth sounded fake to you. What in the world could she possibly find breathtaking when you couldn’t even stand the sight of your own reflection?

Your husband looked as beautiful to you as ever. She was wearing not one of her usual suits but her formal Harbinger attire like always. With the exception of a white tuxedo closing around her waist, a brooch with the coat of arms of the Fatui resting on her chest.

She looked beyond handsome to put it mild, a strong contradiction to how you were currently feeling.

And suddenly you felt so unbelievably uncomfortable in your skin. Her eyes prying up and down over your exposed body only adding to your unease. Not wanting her to stare any longer at her, you crossed your arms over your stomach.

„Very funny.“, the tears began to stung in your eyes. How could she say that when the truth was so obvious? You didn’t even know what to possibly wear tonight that looks halfway decent on you.

„Funny? Dearest, I didn’t intend it to come over as some sort of joke.“, Arlecchino now narrowed her eyes, obviously confused by your harsh tone. What were you talking about? Right now you were the most beautiful sight to her in all existence. A supernova amidst a dark void. A blooming flower field in the middle of a dry grassland. She had no idea why you would come up with such a… grotesque idea. You will never be a joke to her. Not when she wakes up next to you everyday only to study your facial features for a good 20 minutes before getting out of bed. Not when you‘re laying moaning underneath her with her strap-on buried inside of you.

„Please, Peruere- just…“, you sighed, the tears building up in the corner of your eyes now evident, „just how can you stand the sight of me? How can you look at this and still want me by your side?“, the soft sobs leaving your lips were more than enough for her to be by your side in an instant, taking your face into her cursed hands and making you look up to her as the tears rolled over her fingers.

„Sweetness, would you care to enlighten me?“, her tone was serious but not harsh. She genuinely cared about whatever was running through your mind. Her hands gently uncovered your tummy that was hiding behind your arms.

You couldn’t help but feel a blush form on your cheeks at her simple gesture, your body growing overly hot, „I just don’t feel pretty enough… especially not for you… just…“, you breathed out a heavy sigh, „Just look at me…“.

Silence filled the room for a few moments, the wheels in your husband’s head turning and turning as she processed your answer.

Did you think you were unattractive?

And suddenly you were turned around to face the mirror next to you without another word. Your husband‘s hands caressing your shoulders as she held the contact with your eyes through the reflection. And she didn’t look very pleased.

„I am looking at you. In fact, I’ve been looking at you almost every day for the past five years and I can’t even fathom what you could possibly be talking about.“, you could feel her hot breath against you ear as her hand slowly ran down your arms, the wedding ring on her right hand cold against your skin despite all odds.

„This sight has grazed my mind and very soul for ages now and you dare question that? If I one day happen to even show the slightest bit of distaste towards your very beautiful, very mesmerizing body, you might as well kill me with your own two hands, my love.“, and she was not joking. Not even the slightest hint of amusement in her voice. She was dead serious with you.

„Arle… I genuinely don’t see it…“, quickly wiping your tears away before you attempted to cover up the sight of your stomach once again. This time your arms were caught by two strong hands.

„Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare hide yourself away from me or ever feel like you have to be ashamed in front of me.“, her hands got a hold of your belly, thumbs stroking gently circles over your skin, „I didn’t marry you out of convenience or any other ill motive. I married you because I love you from the deepest depths of my heart. And that doesn’t only include your lovely personality.“, and now she gave your tummy a gentle squeeze, peppering a soft kiss behind your ear as she did so.

„You could gain weight, loose weight or even a body part and I would still pluck the stars out of the sky and arrange them in a bouquet if you asked me to. And besides…“, a sharp gasp left your lips as one hand slipped into your panties as the other one grazed your chubby body frame, „more on you means for me touch… kiss…“, a pair of hot lips pressed themself against your neck, „love… mark… All I can see are benefits to me…“.

Biting your lower lip as you felt her fingers ghosting over your aching clit, you looked down to where her hand disappeared in your underwear, „That is… nice to hear… but I still don’t feel like it…“, with that sentence you also now looked completely away from your reflection.

A mistake you realized too late as the feeling of your husband‘s hand disappeared on your stomach only to feel her hand grabbing onto your chin and move it back to look straight ahead.

„If you could only see yourself through my eyes…“, she now rested her chin on your shoulder, the pain in her voice cutting into your heart like a knife. It pained her to see her wife in such a state. Thinking she is undeserving of love and affection when it’s all she ever wants to give you until the end of time and beyond.

„You are beautiful, ma Cherie. So beautiful it makes my heart ache whenever I take a look at you, no matter what you are wearing in this moment. Be it naked, in underwear or fully clothed. No sight to me is more precious than the one of my wife.“, she didn’t hesitate before gently pushing two clipped digits inside your already leaking pussy.

„And I‘m going to stand here with you all night if that’s what takes for you to finally see that.“, Arlecchino shoved her fingers deeper and deeper until she was knuckles deep buried inside you, her hand long having left your face to wrap her arms around you for steadiness.

„Ah… But we‘re going to be late for the chari-”

„To hell with such insignificant things.“, the curl of her fingers was enough to shut you up, „you will always be my first priority. No matter the occasion. The world could go up in flames right now and all I would possibly think about is you.“.

As her fingertips found that gummy spot inside of you, your legs were quickly reduced to nothing but jelly, the mere strength of your husband was all that kept your upright, „You are such a pretty girl, darling. Look at how well you are taking my fingers. How beautiful you look when being pleasured.“.

You could only answer her with such a sweet moan that could melt the whole of Snezhnaya‘s icebergs, your pretty eyes not daring to leave the mirror incase she decides to stop her pleasuring movements as punishment.

„Just like that, my pretty bird. Goodness me, you sing so beautiful with my fingers stuffing your pretty pussy, don’t you agree…?“, thrusting her fingers now at a delicate pace in and out of you, you nodded your head to her question and you meant it. You did think about how great you looked right now with your husband taking care of you in front of a mirror, the event already long forgotten.

„Doll… I want to hear you say it.“, another harsh curl of her fingers had your saliva run down the corner of your lips.

„S-Say what…?“, the words coming at as nothing but a breathy whisper, your mind being too occupied with how well her fingers massaged your insides. Goodness, she way way too good at this.

„Tell yourself how beautiful you are. I want to hear you say it, even if it takes us all night.“, her tone left exactly 0 room for negotiations. My, my she really means it, does she?

You hesitated for a short moment before the words started falling from your mouth with ease, „I-I‘m beautiful… hah…. I‘m so beautiful…“, earning yourself a few kisses against your cheek, Arlecchino spared no efforts in rewarding you greatly as she spread her fingers inside of you.

„That‘s my woman. Was that so hard now? It seemed rather easy for you, if I am allowed to say.“, and when you felt a rush of adrenaline through your spine as you broke apart over her fingers with an agonizing moan, you might as well entered the gates of Heaven.

„There, there. That looked like it felt good.“, your husband cooed right into your ear as her movements slowly came to a halt and she now completely retreated her hand from your slip, „Are you feeling better now, my dear?“.

„Mhm… a lot better… Thanks to you, love…“, you allowed her to sit you down on the edge of the bad, her lips pressing a soft kiss on top of your head. Celestia, you were so precious to her. Lord and behold if something ever happened to you. Teyvat would not see the end of it.

„That fills me with joy, my love. I‘m glad I could be of help…“, another kisses was pressed against your forehead, then nose until her lips finally met yours. Soft hands cupping your face and rubbing her thumbs over your soft cheeks.

„Now… let me choose a fitting attire for the evening, alright?“, when her back turned to you after giving you one last soft kiss, you asked yourself one question as you watched her look through your various dresses.

Is Celestia really such a cruel individual if she threw you into your husband‘s arms?

cat + hatsune miku sweater. That’s it. That’s todays quote.

[watchyourbuck]

I really wanted to NOT analyze this scene bc it’s been done so many times but I’m a public menace, so

Buck and Eddie and Chris are at Buck’s loft, after a mission and a less than pleasant conversation w Bobby, and here are my thoughts:

We see Buck (who’s upset), cooking for Chris and Eddie, when — in the whole arc —, we never see him cook for Taylor (or Ali, or really, anyone else but the 118).

Recently therapied™️ Eddie doesn’t give a flying fuck about being interim captain, but has enough eyes to see Buck does. His voice softens, and he gives him foot to discuss his own feelings without hiding them bc Eddie doesn’t share them. (Bonus points bc he makes the same face he made after the lawsuit, in THE Kitchen Scene, when he tells Buck ‘not to beat himself up about it.’).

“Lucy is great– whatever-,” Buck says absentmindedly, and we get a glimpse of Eddie’s smug little face. It kind of implies he knows about the kiss, but opts to say nothing. He did, in fact, cheat on Taylor (and Chris is in the room). But the grin falls a little. Maybe he’s not so nonchalant about it, after all. Or maybe, he knows they (she and Buck) never stood a chance. He looks – relieved, almost.

Eddie feels comfortable enough to keep actually playing with his kid. Enough to win, actually. He doesn’t feel that comfortable at his parent’s house (5x17).

Buck keeps talking about this, and even if he acts like he doesn’t care (and Eddie has dealt with that sarcastic-coping-mechanism-tone Buck does one too many times), he’s visibly angry, so Eddie changes the subject. “What are you offering?”

“Right now? Bobby’s famous lasagna.” Okay, this doesn’t scream ‘I’m cooking you my family recipes’ to anyone else?

Then we have The Diaz’ compliments, which not only sound genuine, but make Buck grin. Like he did something right. Besides, it took him ‘three tries to get it right.’ Interesting, when other in the show has Buck not given up immediately after something doesn’t go his way? Surely, this had to be something he was very keen on achieving, cuz he barely cooks for himself.

Chris’ little ‘you don’t even have a couch’ is very funny to me. Because he’s a kid and he’s joking, or being smart. But Chris isn’t my focus here, it’s Eddie’s reaction. We do know kids absorb what their parents feel and say, right? Eddie laughs, so he must think alike. He looks almost drunk — all flushed cheeks, big smile, squinted eyes.

“My last two couches came with girlfriends” and the IMMEDIATE correction Eddie makes. We know Buck is at his most comfortable with the Diaz boys, so we know he’s not putting on a show. What he says – he means. Of the heart speaks the mouth. That’s how he feels about his past relationships, not the correction Eddie makes. (And if you may let me be annoying here, it’s kinda interesting, the correction. It sounds almost – hopeful. Eddie knows it’s supposed to be the way he corrects him to be, but in a way, he corrects him just to guarantee himself that that’s not what Buck meant ((and it’s not.)).

The way that Buck stops, stares and then plunges down on the chair. ‘Right,�� he thinks, ‘the girlfriends came with couches.’ Again, NOT his initial thought. He hides behind a grin.

Eddie is not careful mentioning Taylor. Buck isn’t heartbroken. He even mentions her in Chris’ presence, and we know by history they’ve always been careful. (If you ask me, that’s the reason they didn’t hook up after the ‘you wanna go for the title?’ scene).

“Maybe I don’t wanna pick the wrong couch again.” Please stay here for a second. In all objectivity we’re talking about furniture…, right? This is a three-street conversation, because Chris added himself to it, yet Buck won’t look at him. He looks at Eddie, very intently. As if… as if he’s saying something different with his words. Huh, whatever could he mean? (Faint whispers of: ‘your couch, you, I wanna pick you, I wanna pick you, pick me, too.’) And then Eddie, who is Oblivious Firefighter of the Year (awarded) brings the conversation down again to the actual topic, and Buck deflates, like his balloon has been popped. His eyes literally stop glimmering.

So, is this a conversation two best friends who are comfortable in that title would have?

[mcflymemes]

NOCTURNAL ANIMALS (2016) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

please don't say that. i don't want to be like my mother.

do you ever feel like your life has turned into something that you never intended?

that's a deal breaker for me.

we might be perfect for each other if we didn't live in the real world.

why do you always think the worst of me?

you're wrong. you and i are nothing alike.

i see we're settling for less now!

a package arrived for you. i found it in the mailbox this morning.

i'm sorry, but could you help me open this? i just cut my finger. paper cut.

in the end, you left me with the inspiration that i needed to write from the heart.

where were you last night?

by the time i left the office, i was late for my dinner.

it would have taken you fifteen minutes. fifteen minutes, and it would have meant a lot to me.

you didn't come to bed last night.

i didn't want to wake you up.

that doesn't sound like you.

are things a little better?

i'm surprised. i thought we were hiding it pretty well.

[name], i'm worried about you.

seriously, look at me. you scared me the last time that we talked.

i'm fine. i just can't believe i told you all of those things. i feel embarrassed about it.

what right do i have to not be happy? i have everything. i feel ungrateful not to be happy.

i think we just want different things. or maybe i want different things.

we get into things when we're young because we think they mean something.

do we really have to stop tonight? i'd rather just get there.

don't look at them. don't give them any reason.

sit still. they've probably got a gun.

don't get out of the car.

you're not supposed to leave the scene of an accident. it's a crime.

don't come any closer.

i'm a gemini, my favorite color is petal pink, and i like long walks and kittens.

you know what, we should call the police.

you got no fucking right to talk to me like that!

you'll get killed if you don't watch it.

may i use your phone?

could you see them in the dark?

i just wanted to hear your voice. i miss you.

you sound weird. are you okay?

you look beautiful as always.

would you like to have dinner?

you know, you were my first crush.

what a weird thing to say.

i'm sorry. i hope that doesn't offend you.

this is a ridiculous conversation. you're too young to get married.

oh my god, did you just say that? you really just said that? that came out of your mouth?

it's like the whole thing is a blur.

now listen. i've got to be honest with you. right now it's not looking good.

if i write it down, then it will last forever.

you know my name. i told you.

you didn't sleep again, did you?

who the hell are you? get off my property!

you'll take this the wrong way, but i think that you need to stop writing about yourself.

please don't start that again. it makes me feel like you don't believe in me.

you always get so fucking defensive about it.

i really wanted to be this person that you thought i was. i really did, but i'm just not that person.

you're wonderful and romantic, and sweet and sensitive, and all the things i'm not. life for you is kind of a dream.

weak. i'm weak. that's what you want to say. go ahead and say it. you've said it before. weak.

i'll live to regret this. i regret it now.

i got a certain pride in how people talk to me, and there are certain things i don't put up with.

nobody gets away with what you did.

may i get you a drink while you wait?

[mbslost]

Another yapping session with MB yipeee!

nah in all seriousness i would like to talk about some things, now that my temper is gone.

we still remember the post on twt made by @/renhanasgf about Gato not being more inclusive, oorrrr that her poc character are ignored. (i wont talk about the real stuff from discord in this post since proofs are still gathered.)

well here i am! (sadly)

1.How many poc characters?

7 well known (or maybe more). who are those? well we'll start with Raven(tinr) or known as Selin as well, Chet Ichpujani(tinr/tpof), Strade(btd/tpof), Thomas(tpof), Jaqueline(tpof), Machete(tpof) and fucking Derek(tpof)

some of them dont have a full name (besides an alias) either because story wise it didnt mattered or because of their lore (Strade and Machete are criminals, doubt they would want a victim that escaped to expose their identity, no?) Also another detail, even some white characters do not have a last name,such as Sid(tinr), Dragon/Jace(tpof), Komodo/Mike(tpof), Chamomile(tpof), Richard(tpof) and probably some from 'Facility'.

their ethnicities are indeed unknown, either because it wouldnt really affect their story or it was avoided in case it could cause a conflict. dunno. about this i cant really talk a lot since her blogs are gone, thus i cannot dig into this matter anymore. although i believe having a hc on them is fine. ''- It is 100% okay to have ANY headcanons about my character!''-her website)

Raven was one of the well know character from Gato that is poc. her nationality is unknown due to the story (which i would recommend you to read tinr, pretty cool tbh). since her story goes deeper i would suggest you to also read her wiki (fanmade). sadly lots of stuff are now gone about her. still a lover character.

Strade. Strade is Strade. (kind of forgot what she said in the answer about his name but the wiki says ''Strade is not his actual birth name. It's similar to a placeholder name like John Doe. His birth name is unknown." still you can check out more here)

Chet Ichpujani is another character involved in tinr, a manager (i believe) at a semi-restaurant thing? in the end he offers to help Farz with his problem. pretty cool guy since he and Anthony Shore re-appeared in tpof. (picture below)

Machete, ''Machete is the newest member of the desert group. He had to prove himself worthy by performing various criminal tasks to be allowed in. Despite his recent acceptance, the rest of the group remain wary of him. His quiet demeanor and decisive actions tend to unsettle the other members. He regrets everything he's done to be admitted into the group, but he chose to stop at nothing to get revenge for his sister. He feels as though he's completely lost his identity and humanity to his "purpose"." -wiki (also a small detail, he did everything to revenge his sister)

Tom/Thomas, ''Tom is a college student, taking a media development course centered around sound design. He took a few years off high school, kind of meandering through life without an aim for a while. However, he eventually found a passion for making music. Despite tons of research and hard work, he was never really able to get his brand off the ground, so he decided to head to college to get some formal education on the subject. Late one night, as he was about to head home, he was abducted by Komodo and Dragon.'' -wiki

Jaqueline, "Jaqueline is a young trades worker learning to paint houses. She takes pride in her work and also frequently goes to the gym. Her mother pesters her to get a higher education, but she loves her current career path. Due to the friction with her family over her job, she tends to choose to spend time with friends instead. She was violently abducted by Jack in broad daylight, unlucky to have no witnesses." -wiki

therefore, there's plenty of information, plus that lost from her blogs.

2.Model minority

must agree, her work from 2016 looked alike yet, in the last years she actually showed more bodies (like types)

here are some examples:

also Strade's new model as well:

quite diverse, is it not? i am aware i didnt show others as well but if you wish to (and i actually encourage to) you can view the rest here! Lawrence, Ren, Celia (or on pinterest!)

3. Conclusion

i still believe everyone can create whatever they wish, whatever character. the details are on their part. now i could understand Gato for being upset when someone doesnt draw their character as they are (such as changing the body type, skin colour, etc) but also cant blame those who feel like being ignored (trust me, had to survive the genshin fandom).

so the characters exist, thus i dont see the problem of not being inclusive (also, as she often said, you can hc her characters, thus i believe their ethnicities are free to chose for yourself)

that's it. as for the real deal (the discord stuff) i believe it's the best more proofs come. rn i dont see her as a racist artist, but that comment in spanish does sound in fact xenophobic... well, until more context is posted, we'll see

stay safe!

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Sick Summer Days

WC: 2.6k

TW: Dry-heaving, Indiana Jones Spoilers, headaches/migraines.

A/N: Some comfort for our Steve. But also I tried something new and different with my writing and I don't know if I like it yet but oh well!!

If Steve could murder an idea, it would be this one.  

Dustin talked him into throwing a major pool party at the end of the school year for all of the little twerps that he was forced into babysitting. They had been passing around themes all month before Steve had butted in and told them that they have access to the pool, and he’ll grill some food, and that was the party they were getting. Maybe, since they were all sixteen now, he would let them have a singular beer.

But the morning of, he woke up on the wrong side of the bed. His hair was sticking up in all the wrong ways, his chest ached, his head felt like it was filled with fluid, and to make matters worse, he stubbed his toe twice in the kitchen. His bagel had burnt, the OJ was the kind that had pulp in it (Steve is not a pulp guy.), and the banging on the door was the final straw. 

As he swung open the door to curse out Henderson, he saw you. Sure, the little shit was there, along with Max and Lucas, but you were trying to corral the group into being a little quieter.

“Woah Steve, you look like shit man.” 

“Thank you so much for that Henderson.” 

You looked over at him, a smile across your face that immediately transformed into a frown at the state of his being. Steve usually was shirtless around his house, something you quite enjoyed, but today he was wearing an oversized hoodie along with the sweatpants, and his hair looked like it had not only been entered into an Einstein look alike contest, but won.  

While you pressed a quick peck to his lips, the three teens pushed their way into the Harrington Household, booking it to the back doors to get to the pool. 

“You okay there Steve?” 

He just nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah….just—hasn’t been my morning.” he rasped, not realizing how shot his voice was until now. 

“If you want to go lay down while I set up the coolers then I will gladly—”

“No, no, it’s fine. I don’t want you to suffer outside with the delinquents by yourself, that’s just cruel. Plus it’s nothing.” Steve gave you as close to a flirty smile as he could given the circumstances, and squeezed your waist.

You nodded and smiled at him, “Then go clean yourself up Harrington, everyone else is not far behind.” 

And like always, you were right. Just as Steve had made it upstairs to change into his swimsuit the rest of the gang had arrived. He could hear them all piling out of their cars, like a wave of sound ready to crash over him and drag him out to sea. 

You had been outside, wearing some form of a short sundress, to cover up the bathing suit you were wearing since it was only 10 am, and unlike the kids, you didn’t need to be in the pool right then and there. 

Instead, you pulled off your dress, made Robin put sunscreen on your back, and grabbed your sunglasses. You sat down on one of the lounge chairs that you had draped your towel over, pulled out the book you had been reading, and started the sun’s rays on your skin. You didn’t really need to tan, but this process of “warming your body down to the bones” was the best way to start the season out. You were ready to enjoy your day in the sun. But the universe had other plans. 

Steve fucking Harrington stepped out of his house in his old Lifeguard swimshorts, the bright red catching your attention. It caused you to miss the fact that his eyes were still tired and he moved a little slower than usual. You moved the book up slightly, trying to cover your blatant stare as he walked by. 

He picked the lounge chair right next to you, and sat on it, legs facing you. He couldn’t take his eyes off of your body, almost drooling by the way you looked in your bathing suit, hugging you in all the right places. 

He cleared his throat, and smiled when you turned your head to look at him. He had been out in the sun before the summer started, and you could tell because more freckles had popped up, all over his chest, his shoulder, his nose. 

“What are you reading?” 

Robin snickered from the pool, watching as he tried to play it cool, when all he was trying to do was think about anything besides the things he wanted to do to you while you looked like that. 

“Oh, um. It’s part of the summer reading for one of the classes for next fall.” He nodded as you continued. “I’m taking this Dramatic Literature course, you know, like plays, and so we’re starting with this play called Faust, or Doctor Faustus. It’s kind of interesting. It’s about this like twenty-five year old who decides that just being a doctor and smart and hot isn’t enough, so he gets into witchcraft and summons a demon and makes a deal. Basically this demon, Mephisotpheles, or Meph, becomes his servant for like twenty years, or something, and the two of them go back and forth wreaking havoc and everytime Faustus gets a little too ‘God Save Me’, Meph basically throws another sin or indulgence at him and –” 

You quickly closed the book and shook your head. “Sorry, I’m probably boring the shit out of you with this.” 

Steve smiled at you, “Trust me, you are the last person here I could find boring.” 

Dustin and Eddie let out a respective protest, but Steve ignored them because a slight blush had risen to your cheeks, and that was much more interesting than those two. 

“Don’t say that too loud or your head will be on a pike before the day is over.” 

Steve just smiled and shook his head, placing his hand on your thigh. “Trust me, if I can handle the past three years of our lives, I can handle the two fucking idiots over there.” 

“Just be careful then Steve. If I get caught in the crossfire, I’m blaming–” You sat up slightly and pushed your finger against his chest. “You.” 

Steve bit his lip and nodded. “Yes ma’am.” He muttered and you rolled your eyes, settling back down into your lounger, reading your book. 

He was about to say something, but then felt an ache in his chest. Quickly, he excused himself form your side and went into the house, trying to cover up the cough in his throat. 

You exchanged confused looks with Robin before looking back at the slider door where Steve had disappeared behind. 

Steve was now in the bathroom, dry heaving like his life depended on it. The ache in his chest was making it worse since he felt like he couldn’t fucking breathe, and to make matters worse, the headache came back worse then before. It was one of those migraines that would have caused him to stay in bed all day and disappear from the world. Perks of being constantly bashed in the head. 

You knocked on his bathroom door gently and waited for a response. Steve groaned and leaned back against the tub, not really answering you. 

“Steve, can I come in?” 

When there was no reply, you gently opened the door and slid into the bathroom. You took one look at him and shook your head. 

“Harrington, when you aren’t feeling well, you have to tell us. You would make us do the same.” You spoke quietly, almost like you could sense that the problem was his head. Maybe it was the way he was quite literally cradling his head between his knees, but maybe it was because you liked to say you were just really in tune with Steve. 

Steve felt as you stood over him. “Steve?” 

And when he didn’t answer, he felt as you squatted down next to him; your leg brushing against his. 

“Why don’t we get you to lay down for a little bit yeah?” 

Steve grumbled an “I’ll be fine.” but did not move from his position. 

“Okay big boy let’s not be stupid.” You huffed and very gently placed your hand on his arm, squeezing it ever so slightly to indicate that you were going to win this. 

On a better day, Steve might have huffed and puffed, maybe he would have given you lip and told you that he would be fine, but today? Today he just moved one of his hands to yours, a silent plea for help to get up. 

“It’s that bad huh.” You whispered, smiling when you saw the ghost of a smile on his face, before another ripple of pain flashed across his face and took the smile away with it. After a minute or so, you had managed to get Steve standing, and leaning against the counter. You hadn’t turned the lights on so the bathroom was still relatively dark (since the curtain was pulled over the window). 

“Can you open your eyes or does keeping them shut like that help.” 

“I’m fine.” He whispered, opening his eyes, and almost immediately regretting it. He already hated the fact that you had managed to weasel your way into caring for him right now, but now he was trying to shove whatever pain he was feeling into the back of his mind so that you didn’t have to worry so much. 

He couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were when your worried over him. 

“Thank you?” You blushed slightly and kissed his cheek. 

“I did not just say that out loud.” 

“Yeah you did sweetheart, but I appreciate the sentiment.” 

Steve thinks you have magiucal abilities or something because he swore the two of you had been standing in the bathroom, but suddenly he was sitting down on his bed. And then when he blinked again, he was laying down in his bed, with a blanket pulled over him. But when he blinked a third time, and his headache was gone, that when he knew he was going to have to have you tested for witchraft since suddenly it was now three in the afternoon, and you were nowhere to be seen, and his headache had all but subsided. 

He sat up slowly, and double checked the time on his clock, as well as the date because he had no fucking clue what day it was. When he apparently went to sleep, it was ten am and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but now it was three pm, and pouring rain. 

What tipped him off that maybe it was the same day was the scream that came from downstairs, followed by an immediate “COME ON” from one Maxine Mayfield. Steve almost started to run for the stairs, but then heard all of the kids arguing. 

Eventually Steve slowly made his way down the stairs, eavesdropping into the kid’s conversation about the fact that in the first Indiana Jones Movie, Indy is completely useless—

You and Steve made eye contact when his foot landed on the bottom stair; an amused look was plastered on your face as the kids continued to argue about the necessity of Harrison Ford. 

You had all made them change into dry clothes so that they didn’t get the Harrington’s furniture soaked and moldy, which is something Steve was going to have to thank you for later. You were standing in the door way, clearly moving back and forth from the kitchen to the living room to keep an eye on the kids. He followed you into the kitchen where Jonathan, Eddie, Robin, and Nancy all were sitting at the island, drinking and talking with one another. 

“There’s sleeping beauty. How ya feeling bud?” 

Steve flashed a quick look of annoyance at Eddie before turning and looking at you, hoping for some explanation. 

“Started to pour so we saved as much as we could. You fell asleep around 11, and were out for a few hours.” You explanation was simple was you wrapped your arms around his midriff and looked at him. “Feeling better?” 

He nodded and kissed your head. “Y-yeah, sorry just…” 

“I know.” 

He could not be more grateful for you and the way you treated him—with such love and tenderness. But you never babied him, it was something he despised really, and so when you showed him love and care without treating him like a toddler, he started to accept it more and more. 

“There’s some pizza left in the fridge for you, but I did have to literally almost stab Dustin for it so be grateful.” 

Steve hummed slightly and kissed your lips. “I would have been okay if you ran him through with the knife.” 

Dustin yelled an ‘I heard that’ from the other room, causing the group in the kitchen to let out a collective amused hum. 

“Who’s idea was it to put on a movie that causes so many arguments between Max and Dustin?” 

You smirked and shrugged. “It keeps them all really engrossed because Max has a crush on Harrison Ford but sees how pointless he is in the film.” 

“And this upsets Dustin.” Eddie chimed in. “Which then causes Lucas to get caught inbetween because he also gets offended by what Max says, but sees her point.” 

“Plus he’s jealous about her crush.” Robin laughed slightly and took a swig from the bottle in her hand. 

“Then Mike joins forces with Dustin and Lucas, while El joins in with Max because she’s not wrong. And then Will tries to calm them down for the whole movie, which then leads to the suggestion of watching the second one, and whether or not Indy is truly relevant to the series at all..” Nancy finished out for you. 

“You willingly set them up to argue?” 

“If it gives us a reprieve then…Yeah.” Jonathan nodded. 

Steve nodded. “Works for me. What happens when the finish with the second film?” 

The five of you in the kitchen all chimed in at the same time: “Star Wars”. 

You had this down to a science, and handed Steve a beer. “I bet Eddie ten bucks that Dustin’s head wouldn’t burst until the second Star Wars Film. If I win, I’m takin’ ya out ta dinnah babe.” 

Steve chuckled at the accent and nodded. “You’re going to lose since Dustin freaks the fuck out every time Luke and Leia kiss.” 

You glared over at Eddie who was in conversation with Robin. “That sick son of a bitch.” 

Steve kissed your cheek and smiled. “You know I love you so much right?” He whispered, only for you to hear, causing your cheeks to tinge pink. “I appreciate everything you do for me. I don’t tell you that enough.” 

Since you might as well start crying if you opened your mouth, you settled for a kiss instead, your insides melting at the way Steve talked to you. 

It was a quick kiss since you all heard as Dustin started to lose his cool, before the second Indiana Jones movie had even ended. 

“You all forgot one thing, Dustin can’t standing the scene where Indy drinks some sort of magic potion that causes him to almost fry up Willie.” Robin smirked and held out her hand, as Eddie handed over the money to her. 

You grumbled but did the same, making sure to not step out of his reach to hand her over the money. 

[zhvakinnn]

Hello! May I be ⚡ an)on? If that's ok? Anyways! Wondering if I could request a tyler x reader where they thought reader couldn't go to the phantom world but one day while they are there, they are running from a group of Phantoms before a flash bang goes off and reveals reader, holding a machete, and a huge light that was keeping the Phantoms away? You may edit it as you wish! Just keep the basic plot pls! -⚡anon

I was thinking about they flash the light at reader, I don't understand the basic plot but i goggle it (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

I'm choosing if i should choose the

while 'you' were running

Or

While' i' was running

Warnings: none ig?

Character: Tyler

G/N reader

Relationship

✨as always i don't know much English so if something is wrong correct me✨

Let's start on how you went to Savannah

You didn't know why you went to Savannah you didn't even have friends but your parents insist you on going there to make friends

But instead of making friends you look like a lost cat

You wonder around the place then you saw a mansion you went close to it trying to peak but ran away when you heard a rattling sound

You panted as you ran when you look back you froze for a moment you scared of the sight, while you stare at it, it suddenly came running towards you, you shriek while holding your arm up in defense

You fell down when you felt it scratch you

That's when a woman came running towards you

"hey! Are you okay?!" A brown haired woman with yellow shirt came running towards you

You look up from her then your arm, you were shock 'i swear i felt it scratch' then you look around but nothing was there it was just you and your embarrassment

Screaming without anyone harming you is kind of embarrassing

You stand up but the woman help you

"yes I'm fine sorry, i just saw snake came but i guess it disappear?" You lied because you always saw in movies they don't believe ghost or monster ti'll they see it in their naked eye she nodded believing it

"hey? Do you have anyone with? Like a friend?.. sorry to say this but ever since you walk out of the bus you look like a loner" you were offended but she's telling the truth anyway

"well yeah I was just force to be here, no friends" you said smiling softly while scratching your nape

You were shock when a hand was Infront of you "well then i will be honored to be your first friend, im Taylor Hernandez, im on the mechanic club" she smiled brightly at you

"oh, well hi Taylor im (name) , and glad to be you're friend" you smiled back as you were about to shake hands a group came running

"hey Taylor everything ok?" "Yeah just them seeing a snake" Taylor and.. tyler the baseball player that you're inlove with

"(name)" you can't help staring at him his so beautiful "(name)?" His brown eyes "(name)!"

You jump all the sudden only for Taylor apologize "oh no need to apologize, sorry i zone out, what are you saying again?"

"oh just introducing them let's start again this is Logan fields the genius of our group friend" she said pointing at the blonde boy with glasses

"and that is Aiden the uh? Hmm the insane one of our group" he yelled a 'hey' making everyone giggle

"and that is Ben the tall one of our friend, Aiden and him are cousins" Ben waved at you and you wave back

"and that is Ashlyn the quite one sorry not sorry" she shrugged it off and just said hi raising her hand

"and last this is-" "oh yeah i remember him being in the baseball club right?" She nodded and telling you their twins

"so that's why you two look alike"

-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-

When on that night you were in a different room all by yourself when you heard a banging you woke up the sky is red you looked out of the window seeing there's already the black monster it bang its head on the window and you search the room you were shock when you saw a machete

'weird but okay?!'

You swing it in its head and they died

You ran into the bathroom wishing this wasn't real you remember you have your phone on the bed

You cursed why didn't you didn't think to get it first

You open the door looking if there is anyone you quickly snatch your phone and went back in the bathroom you tried calling someone but there are no service

'of course there isn't, am i now in the horror movie ' you thought as you look at the time 12:00 for you it was passed by minutes now yet the clock was still 12:00

This made you cry with fear you tried calling for someone out and you just noticed you have a bleeding arm, you remember that from earlier you look for a wrapping bandaid

Once you find on you wrap it

'i knew it i was scratch!'

That's when you felt your body being pulled

You woke up gasping, you look out of the window and regretting it when a bright light came to your face you closed it immediately

They're are many thoughts on your mind but glad that it was a dream, while thinking that you felt something coming out of your throat

After all that vomiting you still felt sick

You kept vomiting then vomiting so you went home, you ask your teacher permission and he agree

-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-

Present time

By the time you made friends with the six but you came more close to Barron

He was sweet and caring and he asked if you could help him do his assignments and you agree only regretting it

"hey Barron i thought im gonna help you but instead you kept playing baseball" you said looking frustrated and scared at the same time

"oh sorry but can you do my assignment i never had baseball before cause my mom always wanted me to study" he looks at you smiling, you only nodded and went to do his assignment and he added his friends assignments too

But day after day he started to get violent kicking you, Punching your gut, beating you up

You didn't dare to confront him you were to scared of him

.

You were at the arcade like Barron said you were meeting up there

"hey (name)! It's nice to see you again after weeks, how come i don't see you around" you saw Taylor and his twin Tyler i mean

You were about to speak up but Barron already pulled you away making tyler glare at him

"heyy (name) who's you're friends" Barron glared back

Then you notice Logan looking worried at you and mouthing 'are you okay?'

"oh i.. i i just met them on the camping, its nice seeing you again you wave goodbye as Barron lay an arm around you

"they're not okay" Logan said looking at everyone then you

Ben might not know you but he was mad whenever he saw someone encounter with Barron

But when they got there you were no where to be seen

-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-

They were now in the phantom realm Logan was at the top of the wall looking out

Ashlyn suddenly said "hey Logan how many phantom are there they kept getting louder"

When Logan looked with his sniper he can see a group of phantom chasing someone

"there's someone there running!" "Someone? Quick put the light on the direction it might be another person!" Ashlyn said as they all climb up because of curiosity but Ashlyn went out to grab you

When Logan put the light he can see a person when all the phantom became a slime you look at the light seeing someone you were happy that you're not alone anymore

Then you felt a hand grab you and ran towards the wall

Once you got inside the wall you Taylor and ben and Logan, Ashlyn and....tyler

'stop with your thoughts (name) its not healthy

.

"how did you get here, how long have you been here, when did you get here"

"calm down Taylor don't ask them many questions" Tyler said as he look at you then looked away

"I got here ever since the field trip then I had a dream well... Now I know it's not a dream then woke up vomiting and this been happening for a few weeks now "

They also explain that's what happened to them

"okay okay now thats done what the hell does Barron have to do to you?" Tyler said changing the topic you let out a small 'oh' before being silent

Logan sigh and look at you "Barron also force me to do his homework and violently beat me up" when you heard that from him you started to open up to them

"just letting you know if Barron came to you again I'll beat the shit out of him" you started to feel the warmth of your cheeks when you heard what tyler said

Who would've thought you would fall for him even though he doesn't know you

-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-

"woah you use machete" Aiden said with a big grin on his face

"well yeah i found this on the room where we slept while having the field trip, weird they have this things"

Ben tapped you then showing you a board "hey (name) question how did you survive these weeks?! I mean you didn't have any light"

"oh! Well we have a Bunker and I hid there with these torche but when im running out of food i decided to run in a market nearby but none was there only finding those creatures and your light lead me here" you explain to them

"but did you know in the human realm you can put anything, anywhere and it will be on the phantom realm like those lights, before we don't have those but them we figured out we can transfer anything in the phantom realm by being in the human realm" you only nodded but still couldn't catch up to what his saying but you get what he was saying

"okay okay how about we get some rest for now, and here eat you said you ran out earlier you must've hungry" tyler said giving you a snack

"whoa this is not like you tyler, where's a grumpy old Tyler" Tyler glared at him like there was flaming fire around him

-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-

You all are quiet while you ate the snack you thank Tyler for it

This tiny things can make your heart jump you were inlove with him but now being this close you were every much now falling and falling inlove

-

The next day you we're getting pinned by the wall because you forgot to do his homework and so as your homework

"seriously are you really that dumb?! It was an easy task and you couldn't do it?!"

Barron kicked you gut and you fell on the ground

"if it was an easy task why can't you do it?" You heard a familiar voice you knew that voice, you love that voice

"If it isn't prince charming what your gonna save your helpless s/o" they all laugh as Barron did too you grunt in pain holding your stomach

Tyler saw you then quickly get blocked by Barron when Tyler was about to punch him a teacher appeared out of nowhere making them run

Tyler didn't care he was worried about your situation right now he asked if your okay, you nodded and look at him if you were and emoji you could've have been the emoji with heart eyes

"from now on your sticking with us, were gonna protect you from that maniac like we protected Logan from him" you smiled at him and lead you to the group

-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-✧-

It was months now you were officially their friends

You suddenly didn't regret going to the field trip thought you regret being in the phantom realm but you were also glad you have them

You've been hangout most of the time with the twin their mom loves your company aswell

-

"oh hey ty-ty" you said when he sat down next to you

"congrats its been months your now our officially friend" heh right friends...

You two sat there in a comfortable silent while in the background there was a chaos you laugh when Ben suddenly went flying on the spinning thingy

"hey.. i know we don't know each other much but.. nevermind"

"no go on im listening"

" we were classmate ever since grade 6 and we aren't close but ever since we became grade 8 i suddenly catch feelings for you... Even now" you were shock at his words he fell for you ever since grade 8 while you fell for him at first sight

When you were silent Tyler stand up "sorry I just ruined our friendship we just started and I already ruined it im-"

"no.. no Tyler im.. i accepted your confession though i already fall for you ever since grade 6" you grabbed his hand then he sat back again

"really?..." Another silent was made but then tyler held your hand " so does this mean we're you know... Together?" "Well i guess yes" you giggled at him

When his face started to get close you closed your eyes when your foreheads was at each other Aiden suddenly shout

"GET A ROOM"

"SHUT UP!!"

This story doesn't make sense but I hope you liked it🙏🏻

Masterlist | about me | rules

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | 7.1k | explicit | for @steddie-week day 2: hands | AO3)

Tags: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Pining, Getting Together, future Eddie Munson, Threesome - M/M/M, Steve gets it on with two Eddies, Dom/sub Undertones, Sub Steve Harrington, Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Hand Jobs, Crack Treated Seriously, Self-cest (they're both there for Steve but well you know how it is), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot

After the events of March '86, Eddie pines for his new friend, the former king of Hawkins High. Too scared to make a move, he has resigned himself to a life as Steve's friend and nothing more. That is, until one hot summer day, a naked guy appears out of nowhere in Steve's bedroom. The naked guy is him from the future, and he says he's here to help Eddie pull his head out of his ass. It turns out that he and Steve are a happy couple in the future. And as if that wasn't enough, he also offers to teach Eddie how to properly fulfill Stevie's needs. Sexy shenanigans ensue.

Snippet under the cut

There's a loud, almost deafening crack that cuts Eddie off mid-sentence. They both jump, scrambling to their feet, their heads whipping around to find the source of the sound.

He can't believe his eyes at what he sees, his brain refusing to register the sight and make sense of it. Because there, in the middle of the room, stands —

Himself.

Eddie Munson.

It shouldn’t be possible. It can’t be possible.

But there he stands, naked like the day he was born. Same height, same hair, same eyes. It’s his face looking back at him alright. But the longer Eddie stares at him, the more differences he notices. This Eddie has a bit more bulk, fills his frame more. The hair is a bit shorter and there are new tattoos on his skin, like the dagger on his rips or the dragon on his thigh. But the rest? Looks exactly like him.

It can't be him, though. This must be some kind of Upside Down trick to lure them into another round of interdimensional fun, and Eddie is having none of it. Not again, nuh-uh.

“Who the hell are you?” he asks harshly as Steve maneuvers his body to block him from…himself?

The near-mirror image in front of him snorts. “I know it took us three tries to graduate, but seriously?”

"Screw you, asshole. Just because you look like me doesn't mean you are me. If the government can open portals to other dimensions, they can very well find an Eddie Munson look-alike."

"Okay, Mr. Smarty-Pants. If I were just a look-alike, would I know that your first crush was Kermit the Frog?"

"Oh my God," Eddie and Steve say in unison, but in very different tones. While Eddie sounds horrified, Steve sounds delighted.

Eddie quickly catches himself, though, because he never told another soul about his unfortunate and very short-lived crush on Kermit. There's no way this guy would know about it unless he was either a Vecna-like mind reader or Eddie himself.

"Okay, let's say you're telling the truth. If you are me, then why are you here? Is it a warning? Has the Upside Down reopened? Did you come from the future to warn us?" Eddie sees Steve tense up out of the corner of his eye, as scared as he is at the possibility that their fight is not over after all. They can't go through another nightmare like that, they just can't.

The Eddie in front of him waves his hand in a casual gesture before sitting down at the foot of the bed, still very much naked. "No, nothing like that. Vecna's toast and we haven't had any trouble since." He keeps glancing back at Steve and it sends a cold shiver down Eddie's spine. The man looks like he's sizing Steve up for dinner.

"Okay..." Steve starts, his brow furrowed in that cute puppy way he has that never fails to make Eddie's heart swell with affection. "Then why?”

His future self’s smile turns feral as he locks eyes with Steve, and Eddie can’t help but look back and forth between them, eyes widening at what’s happening in front of him. “Just wanted to spend more time with you, Stevie.”

Read the rest on AO3

Special shout out to @legitcookie without whom this wouldn't exist. We started this ages ago and it was sitting all sad in my drafts until steddie week gave me an excuse to rewrite it a bit and finish it.

[thenighthekate]

Am I the one you want [pt.3] ( t.k. )

This little thing, once proud in love and lust, now hides its face and soon it will be dust.

part one part two

The days dragged on forever, lonely nights and busy mornings stretching out till the very last second. It was draining, there wasn't a minute she didn't regret her choices, her words, her actions. If she didn't push, if she didn't yell, she would be still wrapped up in his arms. His soft kisses planted all over her body, his hands working magic after a long week. It was now that she realized he was her escape. His presence was her escape from the hard reality, from the life outside his warm hugs.

The smell of coffee beans swirled all around her, her hands aching as she worked. She was yet again in her head, her stare far into the distance, not even realizing that she was over pouring espresso into the cup until the hot liquid met her hand.

" Shit!" It was quiet, quick and looking around it seemed like no one heard it.

She basically threw the cup onto the counter next to her, quickly blowing on her palm and putting it under water as fast as she could, the cooling sensation calming her nerves. The sound of a bell rang out through the place, the doors of the small coffee shop opening and closing, inviting laughter into the area. She could hear footsteps behind her, a group of what she guessed four people coming up to the front.

After the burned flesh started to feel better she whirled around, not paying much attention to the person she walked to the register.

" Hello!" And when she finally looked up the wind from her lungs got knocked out. Her body froze, words not able to escape even through her open mouth, her head slightly shaking in disbelief. The woman was beautiful, now she finally understood why he went for her. The wife of her past lover was standing in front of her, her smile bright like the sun, light practically radiating off of her frame. They were nothing alike. She cleared her throat, quickly squeezing her eyes shut before speaking with a forced smile on her face. " What would you like?"

" Would you be a peach and make me a long glass of caramel iced coffee?" Her voice was angelic, soft, pure with a hint of hardness and a slight rumble in her tone.

She couldn't help but notice the woman rubbing her stomach, her hand moving in circles over her dress, the fabric bringing out the roundness of her belly. She quickly nodded to her request, the other womens orders blurring together, she didn't know for how much longer she would be able to keep it together.

As she worked on their drinks one thing was for certain, all feelings of regret disappeared. The second thoughts flew out the window, plans of revenge settling into the empty spaces. His wife had to know, she was carrying his child for fucks sake.

Finished with their drinks she brought them out, her feet bringing her to their table and setting the glasses down. " And just call me if you need anything else." This time her voice was stronger, her tone set sweetly with hardness underneath, she softly smiled at the four women, hearing their thank you's before walking away.

Her gaze was set on the now soon to be mother, she watched as she sipped her drink, some spilling on her lip. She reached for the napkin beneath her coffee glass and when her eyes fully set onto it she abruptly stopped. Her eyebrows scrunched together, her whole body slowly tensing. She looked back to the young girl at the counter, her face pulled in disbelief as the women around her asked if she was okay. Swiftly dismissing them she got up and carried herself to the front.

" Is this some kind of joke? Do you think it's funny?" The girl could only stare at the woman, her eyes sad, begging her to see the truth behind them. " This is the humor you kids these days like, huh? Well it's not funny and it's really hurtful. You should not be joking about things like this." The young girl pulled out her phone, completely ignoring his wifes furious tone she pushed the device into the woman's hands.

There was a beat of silence, both of them waiting for the other to say something, anything. " As far as I know I'm not the only one, there have been many women before me." She clutched the counter to stay stable. " I should have ended things sooner, told you about everything. But for my own selfish reasons I let this drag out for more than a year."

Their eyes met and it felt like they had a whole silent conversation while they gazed at each other.

" When do you get off?"

" I'm sorry?"

" When does your shift end?" Her stare was hard, demanding, wanting answers from the young girl infront of her.

" Six. I get off at six."

" Great." She suddenly smiled, the very same beaming, bright smile she walked into the shop with. " I'll pick you up then. How do you feel about a little wine date at my place?"

She knew what this meant, and with the situation they were at, she was all here for it.

~

" I don't know what went wrong. I mean we seemed so happy. Honestly I thought it was work trips, late night shifts, but he always made time for me." The kitchen table was marble, their home big and modern, neat, but with a woman's touch every place needed for it to be called home.

" He always talked about him being unhappy. Said that you were some controlling freak, made bullshit excuses and made me think that I was his corner of peace, escape." The girl had a mocking in her tone, recalling every memorie she and her once lover shared. Her fingers were tightly wrapped around a crystal glass, dark crimson liquid swirling inside it as she took a sip.

" It's truly impressive how he managed to carry this out for so long." His wife had a sour look on her face, hatred clear in her eyes, flames turning ready to burn anyone who got too close. " More wine? If I could, I would be getting shitfaced right now."

Their giggles and laughter quickly died down when a faint sound of the front door opening and closing made it to their ears, footsteps sounding out closer to the kitchen.

" I bought you some ice cream and there's this new movie out, we could watch it tonight." His face morphed into shock, disbelief, fear almost when he rounded the corner, the bag he was carrying dropping to the floor.

" Oh, hi, honey. I made a new friend at the coffee shop today. Isn't she the sweetest." He didn't answer, only stared, his eyes shifting between the two women at the table.

The moment was quiet, almost peaceful before hell broke loose. His wife was screaming, her finger pointed at his chest while she continued to walk him backwards, his own hands flying around her to try and calm her down. The young girl stared at them, her lips pulled into a smirk as she sipped on her wine. She didn't want to admit it, but it was satisfying, watching his face turn red from embarrassment, his wife and the mother of his child truly putting him in his place.

Her heart finally felt light, free.

[thefloorisbalaclava]

Hi I’m sorry can I request like a reader with maybe a German American background or whatever who meets König and maybe they get along and like how ghost would react (possessive/jealous honestly however you want it to go😈)

tyyyy

"Hey König!" you called as you walked beside Simon. He tensed at the name and was happy to be wearing his balaclava. His pokerface wasn't as good as it used to be. He watched as you walked up to the other man and hugged him, saying something in German that he couldn't understand.

"Hello Simon," König greeted politely as ever.

"König," Simon grumbled with a curt nod. He knew it wasn't fair to treat the man the way he did. König had done nothing wrong. Simon was jealous. Possessive. He wanted you to himself, but König came along and drew you in immediately. You both had so much in common, things that you and he didn't. There was no wonder that you were drawn to him.

"We should go meet the captain now. We're late," he snapped, making both you and König look at him.

"Okay." You hugged König and said goodbye before joining Simon who was walking away already. "Hey! Wait up," you said jogging up to him.

"Don’t wanna be late," he grumbled.

"Since when did you care about that?" You asked.

"Since today," he bit out.

"What's with the attitude?" you asked, annoyed with his dismissive answers.

"I don't have an attitude," he told you.

"Are you sure about that?"

Suddenly he stopped walking and turned to you. "How many bloody questions are you gonna ask me?"

You flinched at the volume of his voice then blinked a few times. "Sorry," you said in a shaky voice before walking off without another word.

"I-" he started, but you had already walked away. "Fuck..."

--

You avoided him the rest of the day, choosing to spend your time with König. It only made him dislike the man more. He wanted to catch you alone, but you were making it impossible for him. You two were more alike than he could ever imagine.

He took a chance going to your room and knocking on your door. The door swung open and he felt a pang in his heart when the smile on your face dropped at the sight of him.

"What?" you asked.

"Can we talk?" He tried to sound as calm as possible.

"Oh, now you want to talk?" He deserved that.

"Can I come in or not?" he grumbled.

"Make it quick," you said, opening the door more, "I'm supposed to be meeting König at the gym."

Simon immediately froze at the sound of the man's name as you closed the door behind him.

"Well?"

"I hate him," he started.

"Who?" you asked, but Simon watched as realization washed over your features.

"I've no right to, I know, but...you...and he are so close..." He couldn't think of the right words to say. "Do you love him?" It was the only thing he could think of asking in that moment.

"Love him? König and I are friends, Simon. Just like you and I are friends...at least I thought we were," you said.

"We are...we are, but am I a fool for wanting more?" he asked and you could only blink at him. "Say something, love."

"More? More...like what?"

He sighed and his shoulders sagged. For once, he doesn't take up the space he usually does.

"Like us...being more than friends. Together. Dating. Whatever you want to call it," he said.

"You want to be my boyfriend?" you asked, the smile on your face growing.

"Yeah. I guess that's what I'm saying."

"It's about time you asked, Simon," you said, and he looked at you in shock. "König and I do have a lot in common, but you and I have more than that. It's a special kind of bond I can't really explain and maybe it doesn't have an explanation. Maybe it doesn't need one."

He moved closer to you and took your hands in his. "So...we're doing this?"

"Yeah. So long as you don't think of killing every guy who looks at me."

He moved his head from side to side. "No promises on that one, love."

You giggled and squeezed his hands. "Sooo...I guess you're my boyfriend now."

"Yeah. What now?" he asked.

"You kiss me, silly."

His heart nearly beat out of his chest at those words. He had long thought of the way your lips might feel against his. As he pulled up his balaclava, he looked into your eyes.

"Let me know if I'm doing it right, yeah?"

"Okay..."

He pulled you in and bit roughly, but you didn't stop smiling.

"Tell me you're mine," he said, moving in for the kiss.

"I'm yours, Simon."

"And I'm yours."

He sealed those words with a kiss.

[Masterlist]

[c-e-d-dreamer]

So You Heard I’m A Rebel (With A Heart Made of Stone)

A/N: Soooo... happy Fated Day of @officialfeysandweek! I know it's been a literal year since I've revisited my Gargoyles Universe, but please accept my humble offering of Gargoyle Rhys. This is baby's first Feysand, so please be kind or I will cry

Edit: I forgot to shout-out @jsmelodies who was kind enough to beta read this for me 🥺

Read on AO3 // Gargoyle Cassian (Part 1) // Gargoyle Lucien (Part 2)

“Can’t you stay somewhere else?”

Feyre has to press her lips together to hold in the frustrated huff threatening to spill past them, to hold back the harsh words bubbling up the back of her throat. She shoves it all down, even that dark feeling twisting and twining in her chest from the sting of her sister’s words.

“Like with that one friend of yours. Morrigan, or whatever her name is.”

“Mor isn’t here. She and her girlfriend are in Europe for the next month.”

Nesta makes a noncommittal hum at that, and Feyre squeezes her eyes shut, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. That too familiar anger begins to flare and rise between her ribs again, threatening to boil over to the surface. It’s the way it’s always been, she and Nesta with their claws out and at each other’s throats, too alike and yet too different at the same time.

“You let Elain stay with you,” Feyre finally snaps, unable to keep back the harsh reminder.

Nesta grumbles something, something that sounds suspiciously like exactly before she sighs. “Look, Feyre, I can’t really explain it. You just have to trust me. It’s nothing personal. It’s just that–”

“Really? Because it feels personal. Dammit, Nesta, I…” Feyre curls her knees tighter against her chest. “I need your help. I need to get out of this apartment.”

She needs to get away from him.

The other end of the line is silent, long enough that Feyre pulls the phone away from her ear, checking that the call hasn’t ended, that her phone hasn’t died. But her sister’s name is still displayed across the screen, so she returns her phone, chewing on the inside of her cheek while she waits and waits for an answer.

“Alright, fine,” Nesta finally concedes, sighing softly. “But I have a condition.”

Feyre’s never been more grateful that a phone call means Nesta can’t see her roll her eyes. “Seriously?”

“Do you want to stay at my apartment or not?”

“Okay, okay. What’s the condition?”

“You cannot, under any circumstances, go up to the roof.”

~ * * * ~

Feyre huffs a hard breath between her lips, trying to dislodge the strand of hair that’s fallen forward across her forehead and over her eye. She drags the charcoal stick across the page in short, arching strokes, using her thumb to smudge and shadow until it’s to her liking. She dares to peek over the sketchbook poised on her raised knees, toward the apartment kitchen just opposite of her.

Her eyes trace over Cassian’s jawline, noting the way the stubble of his beard speckles the skin there, the way the low glow of the pendulum lights over the kitchen island catch across the shadows. She returns to her sketch, tilting her head and humming quietly to herself. With another drag of the charcoal stick, she harshens the line on the page.

A low, warm chuckle from the kitchen has Feyre looking up again, just in time to watch Nesta roll her eyes, even as a soft smile tugs up her eldest sister’s lips. It still feels almost strange seeing her sister like this, so soft and certainly private, and Feyre snaps her attention away and back to her sketch.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

Feyre nearly jumps out of her own skin at the sudden sound of Nesta’s voice, but she’s quick to look up and nod. “I’ll probably just DoorDash some Chinese or something.”

“There’s still some leftover stir-fry in the fridge from the other night,” Cassian offers, grabbing his leather jacket off the hook by the door and pulling it on.

Feyre mumbles a quiet thanks, intent on returning to her sketch while the memory is still bright in her mind, but Nesta has other plans. She catches Feyre’s eye, raising a pointed eyebrow and lips twisted into a thin line. The silent message in that one look is all too clear, a reminder of her ‘warning,’ her condition for allowing Feyre to stay here. It’s a look Feyre has been on the receiving end of multiple times since she started crashing on Nesta’s couch, and if she’s being honest, it’s a look she’s beginning to grow quite annoyed with.

So Feyre plasters on her best, wide smile. “Have a great time.”

Nesta sighs softly, but she doesn’t say anything, allowing Cassian to guide her out the door with a hand at the small of her back. He follows behind her, turning back toward Feyre with a wide grin and a wink before he pulls the door closed behind them.

“Don’t wait up.”

Feyre shakes her head at the remark, slumping back against the couch cushions. She glances back down toward her sketch, but the motivation has long leached from her veins now, replaced by annoyance at Nesta and that stupid look. Her sister’s stupid condition.

She doesn’t understand what the big deal is, doesn’t understand what could possibly be up on the roof of the apartment building for Nesta to have such a stick up her ass. Sure, her sister has always been fiercely protective of both her and Elain, but Feyre is quite confident that if the roof was truly unsafe in any way, that people wouldn’t be allowed to live in the building.

Which means it has to be something else.

But what?

Determination steeling her spine, Feyre closes her sketchbook with finality and pushes to her feet. She swipes her phone off the coffee table and strides for the front door. She sticks her head out first, quickly checking Nesta is really gone and the coast is clear. Finding the hall completely empty, Feyre slips out of the apartment completely, set on finally learning what exactly is so special about the roof, her sister’s stupid warning be damned.

At the end of the hall, Feyre finds the stairs, and she follows them up and up until she reaches a second set of stairs. They’re surprisingly old and rickety, and Feyre dares to press her weight against the first one testingly. The wood creaks, but it supports her no problem, clearly sturdy enough, so Feyre continues on and follows the winding stairs up.

She has to throw her whole weight against the metal door at the top of the stairs, the hinges creaking before giving way. The cool evening breeze greets Feyre as the door finally swings open, kissing across her cheeks and ruffling the strands of her hair. She leans out enough that she can fully take in the roof, and a quiet gasp tumbles past her lips when she realizes what’s waiting for her.

The city stretches out all around, different buildings reaching up toward the sky, the spires and dome of the Mother’s Temple just in the distance. With the sun just beginning its descent, everything is bathed in a gorgeous golden light, including the white capped mountains to the north.

Spinning on her heel, Feyre rushes back down the stairs and to Nesta’s apartment. She makes quick work grabbing a fresh canvas and all of her painting supplies, all but sprinting back to the roof. She sets everything down and stands back with her hands on her hips, trying to decide the best angle to capture what she wants. To the left gives her the best view of the full mountain range, but it also puts her in the shadow of the gargoyle facing to the west.

She doesn’t even understand how an apartment building like this has gargoyles, and oddly only two of them.

She takes a moment to examine the one that faces west. It doesn’t have the large, arching wings stretched behind it like the gargoyle that faces to the south, but when Feyre steps closer, she notices there seem to be carvings above the gargoyle’s knees. She leans in, trying to get a better look, before remembering the task at hand.

Quickly shaking her head, Feyre returns to her paint supplies. She decided to opt out of an easel, so she settles criss-cross on the ground of the roof, her canvas splayed across her thighs. She digs out her charcoal pencil first, sketching out the mountains, the clouds, the lines that match the way the light hits the peaks. She holds her canvas up in front of her, humming happily as she compares it to the view.

And then she starts to paint.

~ * * * ~

Feyre knows that she should head back inside. The sun officially set and she lost her light a while ago, needing to pull out her phone and use the flashlight on it to continue to see, even with the rising light of the full moon. But still, she can’t find it within herself to stop, the creativity flowing through her veins like a tide of warm, lapping waves. One more stroke of her paintbrush, one more color, and then she’ll be at a stopping point.

“You didn’t want to paint me? I’m offended, darling.”

Feyre jolts at the sudden voice so close to her ear. She whirls around, scrambling back and to her feet when she finds a man standing behind her. She holds her paintbrush out between them; although, she’s not really sure what good it will do as a weapon.

“I mean, I think you and I both know I’m the most beautiful thing on this roof,” the man continues, eyes almost the shade of violet sparking as he drinks her in. “Except after you, of course.”

Feyre swallows hard. Unfortunately, she can’t exactly disagree with the man’s words. He might just be the most beautiful man that Feyre has ever seen. Short dark strands of hair fall softly across his forehead, perfectly framing the harsh lines of his eyebrows, those violet eyes of his that seem to twinkle as much as the stars blotted across the night skies above. His lips are pink and plush, twisted into an easy smirk as he continues to watch her.

She has no idea where this man even came from. Was she that in the zone painting that she didn’t hear him arrive? With how loud the hinges of the door were, Feyre isn’t sure that makes any sense. About the same amount of sense as why exactly this man is also shirtless.

Dark whorls of tattoos weave their way across his collarbones and down his arms to his elbows, and his skin is especially golden beneath the light of the moon; as though this man thrives in the darkness of the night. But, strangely, those golden tones give way to inky black at his hands. No, not hands.

Claws.

Black and sharp claws that extend out from his fingers.

As if that isn’t enough, the air squeezes in Feyre’s lungs, her heart pounding between her ribs when she notices the other tattoos this man has. Right above his knees. It’s impossible, simply no way. It must be some sort of coincidence that they seem to match the very carvings she’d noticed before. It couldn’t mean…

She doesn’t want to look away from him, her fear palpable, but she needs to know for sure. She glances away just long enough to check, just long enough to take in the western wall of the roof and the distinctly empty space now there where a stone gargoyle used to crouch.

“This can’t be happening,” Feyre mutters half to herself. Was this why Nesta was so adamant that she stay away from the roof?

“Or perhaps you’d like me to model in the nude for you?” the man continues as though this is all a perfectly normal conversation and he wasn’t literal stone less than an hour ago. “All you have to do is ask.”

Feyre is sure that she must be going insane. Perhaps she truly has inhaled too many paint fumes? She just has to make it back to Nesta’s apartment. Then, she can lock the door and lay down and pretend this whole thing is just some paint-fume-induced dream. She tries to gauge the distance between her and the door. Between her and this man and the door.

“Do it,” he all but purrs. “I dare you. I love a good chase.”

Feyre refuses to let her surprise at him somehow knowing her thoughts show on her face. Instead, she merely stares this man down. If she can even call him that.

“Chase? All I have to do is lock you up here, and you’ll be stuck on this roof.”

He tilts his head, his smile turning almost playful, teasing. “Did you forget about the wings, darling? You can run as far as you’d like, but I will always find you.”

“What wings?”

The question has barely left Feyre’s mouth before shadowy wings unfurl behind the gargoyle’s back, arching high above his shoulders and stretching wide. They’re beautiful, the moonlight bleeding through the membranes of them, through the dark lines of tendons and veins. Already, Feyre can see the painting in her mind, the fallen angel of night.

“Oh.”

Feyre quickly shakes her head, squashing any and all thoughts and remembering the task at hand. She needs to find a way off this roof and away from this gargoyle. With those wings, there’s no way she’ll be fast enough to get past him and to the door, so she’ll need a distraction. Before she can think twice, she bends down, pulling her shoe off her foot and chucking it straight at the gargoyle’s head.

He catches it right before it hits his face, the talons of his claws curling around her shoe.

“Really?” The gargoyle tosses her shoe aside, stalking closer across the roof. Feyre takes a step back for each of his steps forward, but it’s clear he’s cornering her, clear she has nowhere to go. “My mate is a fiery one.”

“You’re what?” Feyre chokes out, trying to take another step back but only finding the edge of the roof, stumbling over her feet. The gargoyle wraps an arm around her waist to steady her, but she shoves hard at his chest. “I have a boyfriend.”

It’s a lie, of course. Tamlin is her ex-boyfriend technically, but this monster doesn’t need to know that. She just hopes that gargoyles have some sense of bro-code or etiquette.

“Is that so?” He pulls her close again, almost flush against his body this time, until the only thing between her and the hard lines of his chest is the old, tattered crewneck she’s wearing. “It’s been so long since I’ve gotten my hands dirty.”

It takes a moment for Feyre to understand his meaning, but then her lips are parting in surprise. “You’d kill a man? Just like that?”

“For touching what’s mine?” the gargoyle asks, raising his free hand to drag a claw teasingly across her bottom lip. “Without hesitation.”

Feyre jerks her head back away from his touch. “You’re sick.”

“Oh, darling, you have no idea.”

“I am not your darling.”

“Then tell me your name instead.”

“Clare,” Feyre tells him firmly, raising her chin in defiance. She refuses to give this monster anything he can hold over her. For all she knows, the magic that brought him to life means he can do something with her name, like those stories of fae she read as a child.

The gargoyle chuckles, the sound somehow like a warm glass of whiskey. “Nice try. Your real name.”

“You haven’t told me yours.”

“Rhysand.” The gargoyle dips his head forward, dragging his nose along Feyre’s temple, breathing in deeply like he’s taking in her scent. “But you can call me Rhys. In fact, I expect you to scream it.”

“Wha–”

Before Feyre can even finish speaking, the entire world tilts around her. It’s as though the darkness completely closes in around her, squeezing at her chest and her lungs until she’s gasping for breath. But just as soon as the sensation winds around her, it disappears again, and she has to blink a few times to truly believe what she’s seeing.

They’ve moved.

It’s completely impossible, but somehow, they’ve moved. No longer are they on the roof of Nesta’s apartment building, but instead some sort of ruins. The night sky and stars stretch above their heads where a roof once was, the branches of tall trees around them reaching up toward those very stars. Ivy grows around and between the stone of the walls, around the dark rock of what appears to be two thrones.

“I was really hoping someone would have taken care of this place for me all these years.”

Feyre frowns at the muttered comment, but as soon as she turns her attention back toward Rhys, he’s in her space again. The hand around her waist flexes and tightens, the tips of his talons just teasing her skin, and with his face mere inches from her own, warm breath fans across her cheeks, her lips. It has the breath hitching in her throat, and she can’t seem to look away from those star flecked, violet eyes.

“Your name, darling.”

“Feyre,” Feyre breathes before she can stop herself, before she can remind herself she shouldn’t tell him.

Rhys rewards her by sealing their lips together. Both his hands frame her jaw, tilting her face up just the way he wants, and Feyre can do nothing but sigh into his mouth. The drag of his lips is slow and sensual, drawing Feyre deeper into him, deeper into the kiss. She feels herself growing lost in the feel of his lips against her own, the press of his tongue into her mouth, and before Feyre knows it, the world is shifting again, her back pressed against the soft moss covering the stone floor.

Rhys pulls away from the kiss, but it’s just long enough to latch his mouth to Feyre’s throat instead, his teeth dragging over her pulse point. His hands slip down beneath the hem of her crewneck, sliding up over the skin of her hips and waist. Somewhere, in the back of Feyre’s mind, is a small voice, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than the heat being stoked to life in her veins. Rhys rocks his hips down, the hard line of his arousal pressing against her, and Feyre arches up against him with a soft moan.

“Keep making those beautiful sounds, Feyre darling,” Rhys whispers against her skin.

He pulls back enough that he can push the hem of her crewneck up and up, tugging the garment fully off and discarding it. Feyre can’t decide if she’s happy or not that she opted for no bra, her nipples quickly peaking beneath the cool, night air. But then Rhys is latching his mouth to her breast. She tosses her head back with a whimper, carding her fingers through the dark strands of Rhys’s hair.

She feels utterly worshipped, the way his tongue slides and swirls over her nipple, the way his teeth scrape and graze across her sensitive skin. His hand reaches up to knead at her neglected breast, the tease of his talons only adding to the sensations of it all.

“Rhys,” Feyre gasps softly when he switches his mouth’s attention to her other breast.

Rhys hums against her, dragging his mouth down her sternum, across her stomach. His claws hook in the waistband of her leggings, and before Feyre can even blink, both them and her panties join wherever her crewneck ended up. Rhys settles back on his haunches. His hands curl around her ankles, sliding up her shins and knees and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, until he reaches her thighs. He spreads them open wide, exposing Feyre fully, and moans appreciatively.

Feyre’s bottom lip finds home between her teeth at the hungry look that takes over his face, heat crawling up her throat and spilling across her cheeks. She searches for something desperately to distract herself from her heaving breaths, from the heart pounding between her ribs, her own gaze landing on the tattoos above Rhys’s knees. The mountain peak and three stars.

“What do they mean?”

Rhys’s attention dances back to her face, the barest hint of a smirk beginning to tug up the corner of his lips. “That I will bow before no one and nothing but my crown and my equal.”

“And yet you’re on your knees right now.”

“Exactly.”

Feyre isn’t sure what to make of that, but before she can even ask, Rhys dips his head down between her thighs. He doesn’t give her any warning, clearly as desperate as she is to forgo any sort of additional teasing, before his mouth presses against her cunt. There’s no stopping the moan that tumbles free from Feyre’s throat as he drags his tongue up to her clit, tracing tantalizing circles there.

Rhys’s claws flex and squeeze against her thighs, holding her open exactly how he wants her as he starts to really eat her out. Feyre buries a hand in the dark strands of his hair, nails dragging against his scalp. It’s all she can do to hold on. The way he works his tongue, the way he sucks her clit between his lips, the way he groans and sends vibrations all the way down to Feyre’s toes. It’s all almost too much, and Feyre tosses her head back with another moan.

“That’s it,” Rhys pulls back enough to tell her. “Do you like having your mate’s mouth on you? You’re so wet for me, darling.”

“Rhys,” Feyre gasps softly, trying to buck up against his hold, chasing the pleasure he was building within her.

“Keep saying my name like that,” Rhys continues, turning his mouth’s attention to her inner thigh and nipping at the skin there. “I think it might be my new favorite sound.”

“Then why did you stop?”

Even from between her thighs, the teasing smirk is unmistakable. “You are a delightful creature when you’re feisty.”

“Prick,” Feyre huffs, sliding her free hand down her body. “I’ll show you feisty.”

She continues to move her fingers down across her stomach, over her hips, intent on getting herself off if she has to, but Rhys growls in warning. His talons curl around her wrist, squeezing and halting her movements.

“I thought I told you that I don’t like others touching what’s mine,” Rhys tells her, violet eyes pinning her in place. “And this sweet cunt belongs to me.”

His words have Feyre gasping softly, a shiver skittering up her spine. At least, Rhys seems intent on proving his word. He dives back in and devours her with a fervor that has Feyre feeling dizzy with the pleasure of it all. She arches up off the stones and moss when Rhys fucks his tongue into her cunt and curls it, rocking her hips and riding his face as best she can against his firm grip.

It seems almost unfair the way he plays her body so well despite having only just met her. Too quickly, heat begins to pool low in Feyre’s gut. She tries to gasp out his name, tries to warn him, but it all gets trapped in her throat when Rhys focuses his attention back on her clit. He sucks it between his lips, the barest tease of teeth just on the right side of pain. It sends Feyre’s release barrelling through her, her thighs trembling and squeezing around his head.

She slumps against the stones, intent on bringing back down the pounding rate of her heart, but it’s hard to do when Rhys continues to lick and nip at her. Continues to groan against her skin as if he’d happily spend the entire night between her thighs like this. The pleasurable aftershocks give way to overstimulation, and Feyre whimpers, trying to shift and squirm away.

Blessedly, Rhys pulls away, pressing a soothing kiss to her inner thigh. “Beautiful.”

He slides back up Feyre’s body, his hand finding her jaw and turning her face until he can seal their lips together again. He presses his tongue into her mouth, and Feyre moans at the way she can taste herself. Rhys’s teeth sink into her bottom lip, tugging as he pulls away, and Feyre is like a puppet on his strings with the way she tries to follow after him.

“Beautiful,” Rhys breathes again, dragging his thumb across her bottom lip and the hurt from his teeth there. “My beautiful mate. And all mine.”

“Possessive much?”

Rhys chuckles softly, his warm breath fanning across Feyre’s cheeks. “Don’t worry, Feyre darling. I am also yours.”

Feyre meets those violet eyes of his head on, letting a smirk of her own tug up the corner of her lips. “Prove it.”

Rhys crashes their lips back together, kissing her deeply until Feyre is breathless and moaning into his mouth. When he pulls away again, his hands find home at Feyre’s hips, flipping her over onto her stomach. She moans softly when Rhys forces her hips up, when she can hear the distinct sounds of the gargoyle removing the tattered fabric of his pants.

“This is what you do to me,” Rhys tells her, dragging his cock over her cunt.

He does the same motion again, teasing her, and already, Feyre’s cunt clenches in anticipation, her toes curling. She can feel just how hard he is, feel the curve of his cock and the slightly raised skin of the vein running down it. He’s clearly larger than anyone else she’s ever been with, and need has her rocking her hips back desperately.

Rhys’s hand squeezes at her hip in warning, claws prickling her skin. “Tell me you want me.”

“I want you,” Feyre responds dutifully.

Rhys presses the head of his cock against her cunt, sinking in just the barest inch before he stops. It’s so close and yet so far from everything that Feyre wants, everything that she needs, and she whines high in the back of her throat.

Rhys leans down over her back, pressing his lips to her ear. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Feyre’s breath hitches in her lungs at the request, her heart skipping between her ribs. The moment feels pivotal somehow, feels like it means more than just this one night. She turns her head enough that she can look over her shoulder, that she can meet Rhys’s gaze.

“I’m yours.”

Rhys rewards her by pressing his hips forward, his cock sinking fully into her cunt. Feyre lets out a gasping moan at the stretch, her head dropping back down between her shoulders. She feels so incredibly full, and she clenches down around him.

“Oh, gods.”

“Not quite, darling.”

Rhys rocks his hips forward, pressing deeper still, and the pleasure is indescribable. It’s like fire racing through Feyre’s veins, through her every nerve ending, and it all stems from where they’re joined. The feeling is addicting. Especially when Rhys pulls his hips back just to snap them back forward again.

His hands find her ass, spreading her wider still and kneading at the flesh as his hips start to really drive into her. “Look at how you take me.”

Feyre can do nothing but moan in response. Every slap of his hips against hers, every drag of his cock against the walls of her cunt, it sends pleasure cresting higher still through her. And when Rhys grinds his hips against her, his cock pressing against that spot deep within her, Feyre lets out a choked off gasp, clawing desperately at the moss beneath her.

Rhys’s own fingers find and curl around Feyre’s wrist, guiding her hand to her lower stomach, pressing both their hands there and adding pressure against where his cock sinks into her again and again and again.

“Do you feel that?” Rhys asks, his teeth nipping at Feyre’s earlobe. “Feel how your body yields to your mate’s cock.”

“Fuck,” Feyre whines, trying to rock her hips back to meet Rhys’s thrusts.

“It’s what you were made for. Made to take my cock. Made to be full of my seed.”

Feyre whimpers at his words, clenching down hard around his cock. She can feel that familiar heat coiling low in her gut again, feel herself teetering closer and closer to that precipice.

“Is that what you want, Feyre darling?” Rhys continues, his hand trailing down until he finds her clit. “Want me to fill you up?”

“Yes,” Feyre gasps out, her toes curling as Rhys begins to trace circles across her clit. “Rhys, please.”

“Then be a good girl and come for me.”

With the way Rhys continues to fuck into her, the way he continues to work her clit, Feyre can do nothing but obey. Her release tears through her, back bowing and a shout of Rhys’s name tearing free from her throat. Rhys continues to work his hips, continues to work her clit and draw out her orgasm, until he finds his own.

One last hard thrust, and Rhys’s hips still, his cock pulsing deep and flooding Feyre with warmth. She moans softly at that feeling, at how full she truly feels, and her cunt flutters with the aftershocks before she slumps down against the stones.

She whimpers when Rhys pulls his cock free, feeling the wetness that leaks from between her thighs and pools on the stone beneath her. Rhys flips her over onto her back again, settling into the cradle of her hips and kissing her deeply. She gasps into his mouth when Rhys drags the head of his cock across her cunt again, through the absolute mess they made. She’s surprised that he’s still hard, but perhaps it’s part of the magic that allows a gargoyle to come to life in the first place.

“Did you think I was finished with you, Feyre darling?” Rhys whispers, lips dragging against her own. “This time I want to see your beautiful face when you fall apart on my cock.”

It’s his only warning before he sinks his cock right back into her cunt, meeting almost no resistance this time. He quickly sets a hard and brutal pace, lifting Feyre’s legs so they’re curled high on his chest. It changes the angle, his cock driving somehow deeper still, and Feyre tosses her head back with a high pitched moan.

“Fuck, don’t stop. Gods, Rhys, don’t stop.”

“Never,” Rhys promises, his own voice strained. “I intend to spend forever between your thighs.”

Feyre buries her hands in the dark strands of Rhys’s hair, drawing his mouth back to hers and into a kiss. It’s little more than a brush of lips, than moans and groans shared in the breath between them. She’s already too keyed-up, too on edge from all of Rhys’s ministrations tonight, that when he reaches a hand down between their bodies and finds her clit with practiced ease, there’s no stopping the orgasm that rips through her.

Spots burst behind Feyre’s eyes, her back arching up off the stones and moss. Her cunt clenches down hard around Rhys’s cock, a long moan of his name tumbling past her lips as she gives in and dives head first into the fires burning through her veins.

When she comes back down from the high, she can still feel Rhys still moving above her, within her. Her attention drifts over his shoulder, to the wings still spread wide behind his back. The moonlight catches in them, filtering through the leathery membrane in silver streaks. They’re beautiful, her fallen prince, and Feyre’s hand reaches up, fingers dragging across them.

Rhys all but roars, slamming his hips against hers and talons digging into her thighs to hold her to him. His cock twitches and pulses, filling her once again with his own release, and Feyre moans again, her cunt fluttering.

“So beautiful,” Rhys whispers, dragging his nose along her throat. “Beautiful when you come. Beautiful when you’re milking my cock.” He pulls back enough that he can look in Feyre’s eyes again, his claws surprisingly gentle as he brushes a strand of her hair off her face. “My beautiful mate.”

“You should see yourself. Perhaps, I’ll have to paint you after all.”

Rhys chuckles softly, the violet of his eyes practically sparking, and he leans down to kiss her again. It’s surprisingly gentle, almost sweet, the way his lips slide against her own. When he pulls back completely, he waves his hand, a quilt appearing beneath them and another draping across their bodies.

Feyre blinks a few times, taking in the display of magic. “You couldn’t do that before?”

“It’s not my fault, Feyre darling. You are very distracting.”

Feyre rolls her eyes, but she allows Rhys to rearrange them, to gather her into his arms. He settles one arm securely around her waist, his other hand buried amongst the strands of her hair. With the steady warmth of him against her own body, it’s too easy for Feyre’s eyes to flutter closed. Too easy to give in to the golden warmth that seems to thread between her ribs and twine around her heart.

Too easy to let sleep drag her under.

The sunlight prickling through her eyelids draws Feyre back into the world of the awake. She shifts and stretches her limbs, blinking a few times until the world comes back into focus, until she can fully take in the half crumbled stone walls, the ivy and the moss growing across them. They certainly look different in the golden yellow light of the morning, soft and pretty and the perfect backdrop for a painting.

Just like the sunset over the city and mountains.

The reminder has Feyre jolting up with a gasp, all of the events of the previous night rushing back hard enough to make her dizzy. There’s a soft groan from her right, and Feyre looks down just in time to watch a slow, sleepy smirk tug its way across Rhys’s face, a soft glow to his violet eyes.

“Good morning, darling.”

“You look… human.”

Rhys sits up as well, holding his hands out in front of him and turning them over. His distinctly human hands with no claws or talons to be seen. A glance over his shoulder confirms the lack of his wings too. And yet he’s still the most beautiful man that Feyre has ever seen, especially when he turns back toward her, a wide, genuine smile painted across his face now.

“You freed me,” Rhys explains. “Broke my curse.”

“…I did?”

“My beautiful mate. The curse breaker.”

Rhys’s hand finds home at Feyre’s jaw, drawing her into a soft kiss. Feyre laughs softly against his lips. But then another realization hits her, and she yanks back, looking around at the ruins they’re in again, at the golden daylight bathing the stone and the trees.

“Oh fuck, I’ve been gone for hours,” Feyre breathes, scrambling to her feet and gathering her discarded clothes from the night before. “You need to do that teleport thing you did last night again, get us back to the rooftop.” At Rhys’s prolonged silence, Feyre pauses with one arm through the sleeve of her crewneck, turning an unimpressed look on him. “Don’t you dare.”

Rhys at least has the decency to wince. “I don’t have my magic anymore. We’ll have to take the long way.”

Feyre sighs, pulling her crewneck on the rest of the way. “Nesta is going to kill me.”

~ * * * ~

Feyre runs her fingers through her hair, desperate to untangle the knots, to create some semblance of order as the elevator climbs up and up to the eighth floor. She can feel Rhys’s attention on her, is quite confident that he’s smirking as he watches, but she pays him no mind, straightening out the creases of her crewneck instead and brushing dirt from her sleeve.

The elevator dings, and they step out, but they only make it a few steps down the hall before Feyre whirls around, pointing a warning finger at Rhys.

“Don’t say anything. Just… Don’t.”

She refuses to be affected by the spark that flares through Rhys’s eyes in response, the way his eyebrow quirks and his lips twitch. His amusement is clear, bleeding through his casual dress of a stolen tee and his still torn pants, through his casual stance with his hands shoved in his pockets.

Shaking her head with a fond roll of her eyes, Feyre turns back around, continuing the rest of the way down the hall and to the front door to Nesta’s apartment. She gives herself a moment to breathe deeply, to steady herself, before she reaches for the handle. Nesta jumps up from the sofa as soon as the door opens, all but storming over to Feyre, the fury clear on her eldest sister’s face.

“Feyre! Where have you been? I’ve been worried…” Nesta's voice trails off, her gaze dancing over Feyre’s shoulder to where Rhys stands.

Feyre clears her throat awkwardly. “So. Um… this is–”

“Rhysie!” Cassian’s booming voice echoes from the kitchen.

Nesta’s eyes widen, the blue of them flaring before they close. Feyre’s own gaze flits between Cassian, Rhys, and her sister, trying to figure out what’s happening, trying to put the pieces together. But she can do nothing but stand there and gape confused as Nesta takes a deep, shuddering breath in.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Referring to how Leona is an actually good leader, it's still very funny to think about how annoyed Vil must be when Epel idolized Leona while fighting for his life struggling under Vil's tutelage. Like "how could you prefer that good-for-nothing-except-his-face over ME?" kinda thing. (Yes I love all of them but I love to see them suffer more <3)

[Referencing this post!]

Leona definitely projects very different images depending on the circumstances! His club and dorm members all look up to him because, to them, he come off as a role model. He's strong, cunning, and exudes confidence. To everyone else (people he doesn't actively lead, or people he stands on par with in terms of power and influence), he's seen as lazy and rude because Leona does not care for putting on airs and finds social grace tiring to deal with.

Nowhere is this dichotomy better exemplified than in Epel's Birthday Jacket vignettes. In them, Epel, a first year and a Magift Club member, describes Leona as someone who is good at looking out for others like him. This confuses his interviewer, Floyd, who responds that it "doesn't sound like" the Sea Lion-senpai he's familiar with. Epel then confesses to not really seeing Leona much outside of club, so he doesn't actually know about what Leona is like most of the time. This just goes to show that Leona naturally shines and is at his best when he's in a scenario where he has to lead others.

Now, regarding Vil and his feelings on Leona... 🤔 It's true that Vil dislikes Leona (and, more specifically, his attitude) and may be disapproving of Epel idolizing the guy, but I get the sense that those feelings stem in part from disappointment, not just blind hatred or not liking how Leona dresses/speaks. Vil's someone who has exceedingly high standards for himself and for the people he surrounds himself with. He despises it when people don't give a task their all, or don't live up to their full potential. That is exactly the case with Leona. Vil has a VERY keen and discerning eye; I suspect that he noticed a long time ago that Leona's not putting forth all of his effort and just doing the bare minimum to scrape by, and that's what further stokes Vil's frustrations with him. An example of this is the very superficial aspect of Leona's looks. Vil admits that Leona has a handsome face, but doesn't dress the part at all. The same goes for his other traits and abilities, and even his grades (which are low due to poor attendance even though Leona himself is insanely smart). That's the thing: Leona could be great, but instead he's wasting it all and choosing to not be "his best" at all times--an ideology which exists in blatant opposition to Vil. Here we have two powerful, intelligent, talented individuals who worked hard to get to where they are now (even though they were already born into affluent families). They didn't choose to just coast by life on their family's names alone. One of them literally makes a living off of showing the world how perfect he is, and all the effort he puts in to achieving that perfection. But the other has gone the other route, not willing to put forth that effort to anything that he doesn't find useful or interesting. They've both become disillusioned with the world, which has provided them nothing in spite of all the times they tried to prove themselves. They weren't rewarded with a heroic role, nor the coveted crown., but they've got the charisma that inspires others to follow them and to show them respect. They can recognize others' strengths and are in positions where they can guide others towards those strengths. They're so alike, and I think that only feeds their dislike of one another. To Leona, Vil's a try-hard that always changes his personality to look good for the public. To Vil, Leona's callous and carelessly tossing away his own potential. It makes them a worthy rival of the other.

DBKHILdsbiDIvqfosd1436g17b Okay, I kind of strayed a bit from the initial ask, but yeah!! Vil would probably be annoyed with Epel looking up to Leona because Leona isn't at 100% all of the time (whereas Vil tries to be). The two have very different ideas of how their energy is best spent, and with Vil being Epel's dorm leader and all, he feels like it's his responsibility to lead Epel the "Pomefiore" way, not Leona's way.

[happilychaengs]

Solemn Silence

a/n: obviously i don't edit considering how fast i got this published. 3 hours for this. this is kind of my replacement for the jihyo piece i unpublished but it's nothing alike. tried being my descriptive but idk. maybe it didn't turn out like i thought it did. i also thought of making a new series with a car involved but idk how that'd work. i was extremely inspired by a late night drive i went on with my friends when it was raining. might make more pieces with rain involved

word count: 1,136

jihyo x gender neutral reader

"Are you kidding me?" You scoffed as you looked down at the text on your phone. You really didn't think this wouldn't be you spent your night today. Driving in the rain close to midnight, all because of one simple text from a girl you don't talk to anymore for reasons unbeknownst to you.

The rain came down in sheets as your windshield wipers were working harder than usual, swishing back and forth in a sort of hypnotic fashion. Navigating the slick and shiny roads was a hard task but it was nothing compared to the challenge that laid ahead when you saw her again standing on the sidewalk. She looked annoyed and wet, her hair slicked back as she was wearing simple dress accompanied with a black overcoat. It made you really question if this was the same girl you knew.

As you pulled up to the sidewalk, she quickly made her way in and sat down, averting her gaze in every way she could.

"Why'd you text me, Ji-"

"Please drive."

Definitely the same girl. Reluctantly, you started the engine again as the tension in the car became palpable. The only sound was the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof as Jihyo stared out the window, slightly huffing on the glass, making it all foggy and scribbling on it with her fingers.

A long tunnel is in sight as you go through, the pounding of the rain on your windshield effectively stopping. Now it's truly dead silent. You thought this would allow her to start talking to you, but now that your own breaths were the only sound that could be heard throughout the car as you drove, you missed the monotonous rhythm of the rain.

You break the silence. "Jihyo-"

"Stop. Don't... Don't talk please." She starts it again.

Exiting the tunnel and hearing the rain pour again on your car, you ponder about why she does the things she does. Park Jihyo, the infamous heart breaker. The supposed woman who has it all and yet it never feels like it when you're with her. She always feels like she's missing something from her being. A hole in her heart per se.

You park the car on a seemingly stranded sidewalk, making her glance over at you.

"Why'd you stop?"

You pull your keys out of the ignition and lean your head back on the head rest, "Tell me what's going on. You don't speak to me for months, and you text me now of all times. What is it you want from me?"

Her breath hitches as her eyes wander to the windshield glazed in a cover of water, to your hands on the shift stick, and finally to the exhausted look you have in your eyes, a small frown on your lips.

"Either you talk or we're not going anywhere." A stray car passes you by, the headlights casting a hazy glow through the thick curtain of rain.

You see the inner turmoil in her eyes, the war she has going on inside her mind. "Look- I... I don't know. Okay?"

"You... don't know." You repeat in a low chuckle, "That's all you have to say? Because I think there's just a little more on your mind."

"Stop, Y/N. For both our sakes. Stop pushing it."

As you stared out the window, you spoke out, "For both our sakes? My best friend of my entire life suddenly stops talking to me and suddenly you text me now? And it's better for my sake to just not know why? Fuck you. That's bullshit."

You see the slightest reflection of her through the window and you can tell she's surprised. You've never spoken to her like that in the years you've known her. Even through the angriest of arguments, you would never lash out at her like that.

"I... I'm sorry." And for no apparent reason, you hear the door unlock and close. You glance over at her seat and it's empty.

You groan and exit the car yourself, quickly running to the sidewalk as you stared at her, your brows crinkled and water dripping down your face.

"What are you doing? Get back inside, Jihyo. You're going to get a cold."

Her back was facing you as she spoke, "No."

You sigh, your breath becoming a white cloud fading off into the distance. "Jihyo, please. I'm sorry, okay? You don't have to talk about it."

And you didn't expect her to be so abrupt, switching her tone so fast as she turned to you, her entire face dripping with water, her makeup coming off. "No. You wanted to hear it, right? Why I avoided you? Why I texted you now?"

A tearful chuckle escapes her mouth, making you finally notice that those were tears rolling down her face, the rain masking it all. "I was on a date, okay? The first one I've been on since I stopped talking to you! And you know what I felt? Absolutely fucking nothing!"

She pulls out her phone, all her tears and raindrops dripping onto the screen, quickly showing you all the drafts of her texts and messages. All deleted from under your name. All messages saying the words you never thought you'd hear from her. I love you.

She shoves her phone back into her pockets, "I wasn't used to feeling like this when I'm with you! Like my heart was going to burst out from my chest! Like I couldn't control myself! Each and every time I tried to forget, I couldn't help but think of you! So yes, Y/N! I avoided you! But it was because I love you!"

She turns her back on you again as she starts storming off, not caring for a response from you. Your head and heart seem to fall in agreement as your legs run quickly behind her, you tugging at her hand.

Her head turns back to you with a tearful look, "What?" Her tone was so soft, unlike her usual loud demeanor. She seemed... so vulnerable. Something you've never seen.

And then you do something you didn't expect to do in your lifetime. Your lips were pressed to hers. The rain was pouring on the two of you but you didn't seem to care. Her eyes widen but she soon deepens the kiss, getting lost in the feeling of you.

The world begins melting away around you two. The rain, the storm, it all fades into the background. You hold each other close for warmth, as you feel the rain trickle down your back.

The two of you stare into each other's eyes as you don't feel like there is a need for any more words to be said. Solemn silence. It's how it began and it's how it will end.

[onyourowndaisymae]

Hi again!! Could I request some obey me hcs about Simeon's Fem!S/O preparing him a relaxing bath because she notices Simeon is stressed trying to adapt to the human life?? Not really like nsfw (I mean if you want...) but instead a cute scenario where they are just bathing together with candels and stuff? I tried to follow your rules as clear as possible, hope it's not too cringy,, have a great day!! 💌

running a bath for a stressed out simeon

thank you so much for the cute request! hopefully this did it justice. i adore writing tender relationship fluff and this was the perfect opportunity. the mc did turn out to be gender neutral, since it never really came up-- i hope that's okay! apologies as well for the odd formatting with the dialogue. apparently tumblr has a character block limit and counts all the bullet points together in one block, so i had to improvise.

content warnings: nudity, brief suggestive mentions but nothing nsfw

{established relationship, simeon x reader}

being a human is hard. nobody really gives you enough credit for surviving thus far. your human body is not built for the stress of the devildom, nor holding your own against demons, angels, and sorcerers alike. so of course you're stressed to find that your lovely partner simeon is now a fragile human like you.

even as a human, he has this angelic grace about him. he's all gentle smiles and kindness, soft looks of affection given in quiet moments. he's an angel to the core, even without his powers.

but you know him. you can see the subtle bags under his eyes, the way his shoulders droop just a little when you're alone. he brushes your concerns away with a smile, but you know. you always know.

as his partner, you've taken it upon yourself to pamper him. you cycle through a few ideas-- dinner, a nice date, a night at home-- and settle on something more low-stress, made specifically to melt the weariness from his muscles and the furrow from his brow: a warm, relaxing bath.

living with asmo has drilled the importance of a good bath into you. this man is always talking about his baths. he goes into heavy detail about the salts, the oils, the whole setup. you've heard it all. today, you're thanking him internally for all those lectures, because you're finally putting that knowledge to good use.

you're pretty proud of your work. the lights are off, unnecessary when the room is illuminated by a slew of pleasant-smelling candles. the bath is warm and full of salts and bubbles in preparation for simeon's arrival. upon asmo's suggestion, there's a few rose petals drifting across the surface of the water.

you wonder, quietly, if the rose petals were a little much. but you're not left alone long enough to dwell on it-- the sound of someone entering purgatory hall catches your attention. you peak around the corner and spot simeon putting his things away as he enters. he notices you there after a moment or so and smiles, warm and kind.

"hello there, dove. i didn't see you there. what are you doing here at this hour?"

you explain that solomon let you in, and that you've got a surprise waiting for him. you reach a hand out toward him and watch him smile, confused but content all the same, and cross the room to take your hand. you lead him to the bathroom and push the door open to reveal the bath you so lovingly prepared.

his eyes widen in surprise for a moment before a dopey grin splits his face. simeon doesn't hesitate to pull you into his chest and chuckle. what a nice surprise, mc. he gently coos something about how generous you are, but it's lost as he presses a kiss to the side of your head.

"what's all this for?"

you tell him that you've noticed how tired he's been lately. you leave out all the parts where you've worried yourself sick about how stressed out he must be. that'd defeat the whole purpose of a relaxing bath, now wouldn't it?

his sweet kisses are more than an adequate thank-you. after coaxing him out of your arms so he can, y'know, enjoy the bath you worked so hard to set up, he strips himself of the day's clothes and sinks into the warm water with a content sigh.

you smile and make some last-minute adjustments to the candles on the counter. then you tell him to enjoy as you make your way to the door and give him some space to relax.

his hand catches your arm the moment you grab the doorknob.

"wait, you're not staying?"

there's a mischievous glimmer in his eyes-- it reminds you simeon is not an angel. that borderline smirk is human, impish yet lovely all the same.

you ask if he wants you to stay. he looks away and sighs heavily (leave it to simeon to bring in the dramatics), then laments to no one in particular about how this bath is just so big and spacious and how he worries he might actually be too tired to wash himself. if only he had a doting partner around to help...

alright, alright. you get it.

you feel his eyes on you when you begin to peel off your clothes to join him. your eyes meet his. that's not very former-angel of you, simeon. he laughs and looks away with his hands up in defeat.

stripped and ready to bathe, you urge simeon to scoot forward. when he complies, you slip in to the bath behind him. your fingers gently graze his back, his shoulders, his neck, all the way until they find his hair. you don't neglect to notice the way he shivers in anticipation under your touch. but that's not the kind of bath you had in mind today-- you're more worried about making sure simeon finally gets some peace and quiet.

he thoroughly wets his hair as you lather up some shampoo in your hands. then they find his scalp, massaging in slow, gentle movements. he sighs, content, and you're almost certain his eyes are closed as he leans back into your touch. you're careful to treat every inch with the same amount of love. your nails work through his hair to make sure every strand is clean and soapy before you sit back and ask him to rinse.

the same process begins as you run conditioner-covered fingers through his soft brown locks. he's humming quietly now, his voice being the only sound joining your breathing and the sounds of water shifting around you in the tranquil air. every so often, one of his hands will linger on the surface of the water to play with a clump of bubbles. gone is the previous tension from his face, replaced now with an angelic serenity you're happy to see again.

finished, you let the conditioner set as you grab a wash cloth and some soap. a gentle tap tap on his back prompts him to sit back up. his shoulders are broad and proud-- for a moment, you imagine his wings emerging from between those toned shoulder blades. they'd definitely make a mess of everything you'd worked so hard to prepare. you smile fondly as your fingers rub across the muscles on his back.

it's been a strange adjustment to think of simeon not as an angel but a human now. there's no wings to spring forth, no blessing to use in times of crisis. he's human, like you. there's a sense of camaraderie there, for a brief moment, but you can't help but wonder how hard the transition must be for him. being a human is hard; being a well-adjusted human in the devildom is near impossible.

you press a kiss to the nape of his neck. he shivers, a loose giggle slipping up from his throat, and you begin to rub the area with a soapy rag. you repeat the same steps across other parts of his back-- each of his shoulders, the top of his spine, anywhere you can press a soft kiss against his flawless brown skin-- each stroke meant to cleanse him of his troubles.

he means the world to you. watching simeon struggle has been a unique sort of punishment. even with how well he hides the stress, you know his feelings about the matter must be just as tangled as yours.

you decide to let him in. your soapy arms wrap around his waist as you press a cheek to the flat of his back. then you tell him the truth: you've been worried about him. you've seen how stressed he is trying to adapt to his newfound humanity. the bath was your way of saying you care, of saying that you want to help him in any way you can.

he's quiet for a moment. then, he laughs.

if you could see his face, you'd see his watery eyes and the big grin on his face so tight and pleased that it's making his cheeks hurt. he doesn't quite know whether to laugh again or cry. he's touched. you care. you've once again slipped past any wall he's put up and noticed things he wouldn't even admit to himself. he's so lucky to have you, to be able to spend evenings like this with you, to have someone as caring as you take care of him.

his hands find your own, intertwining your fingers and he leans his head back on yours. yes, he admits, he's been a little stressed. simeon apologizes for making you worry and admits he never realized how stressful being a human actually was. nobody around here gives you enough credit for that. human bodies are fragile, y'know. never in his life has his back hurt so much, it's-- what's that? you're teasing him for being an old man? well he was flattered, but on second thought--

the once-serene bath is now lively with laughter and taunts. maybe you can't give him his wings back. but you've given him a blessing all the same: you. your smile, your kind words, your presence beside him day in and day out.

to him, that's the best gift he could've ever received.

[abibliophobiaa]

right where you left me

chapter three coming 11/13, read on for preview…

——

The Hideout is bustling with customers. Endless rows of children constructing and decorating gingerbread houses at one table, while parents and family members alike mill about at the other tables, conversations about the upcoming holidays filtering through your ears as you pass by, handing off drinks and food.

Steve’s not here yet. A fact you notice as you watch the table of your friends grow, the group bent low together, beaming at what the other is saying, caught up in their company as day turns into night.

You’re finishing up handing off water to a table of teenagers when you notice Abi waving you over, a weary look in her eyes. It’s when your gaze travels southward you notice the shaggy blonde curls that you couldn’t forget even if you tried. Nor the pristine suit and tailored pants, the too expensive watch, that tie cinched around his neck. Green eyes drift your way from the bar, arms crossing over a toned chest. Chiseled cheekbones give way to blonde stubble, a messier look than you’re used to on Clark’s conventionally attractive features.

His eyes narrow at your appearance. To him, you’re wearing no more than a pair of jeans you bought off of a clearance rack, and a black sweater with a hole in one sleeve after you’d gotten it caught on Steve’s truck handle. He’s seen you in designer gowns, shoes, decked to the nines with jewelry, looking like the ever dutiful daughter. And now — now his eyes roam your form with distaste, the curl of his lip making your stomach drop.

“I can ask him to leave,” Abi murmurs low against your ear as you slip behind the bar to join her, “just say the word, and he’s gone. Eddie wouldn’t mind if I toss him out. He’s kind of an asshole anyway. Asked me if I had a specific bottle of wine, and scoffed when I said we didn’t. I almost told him he could shove the credit card he slapped against the bar up his ass.”

“Sounds about right,” you grumble, giving her hand a little squeeze. “I’ll be okay. And if not, and you catch me ready to throw a glass and lose my job —”

“I’ll turn the other way and pretend I didn’t see it.”

Offering her a smile, you slip back out and round the bar, grabbing Clark’s sleeve and tugging him to a smaller table positioned away from everyone else. From here, you can see Steve when he arrives and escape if need be. Huffing, you cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head up, staring into that blank stare.

“So this is where you ran off to,” he tuts, snickering, “it’s…charming.”

“It’s where I grew up,” you tell him flatly, “it’s home.”

“Home is in the city,” he says, leaning up onto his elbows, hand coming to curl over your own. Your eyes narrow at the contact, at the feeling of his finger cradling the back of your palm. “Come home. Stop this, please? Your family misses you, your friends miss you — believe it or not, I miss you.”

You bark out an incredulous laugh. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Darling…” The hand around yours tightens, and you know he’s trying to narrow your window of escape, to ensure you stay rooted in place. “We had fun together, didn’t we?”

“At events, sure.”

He was kind enough. Was willing to laugh with you, to joke and tease, to talk. But there was nothing of any sort of romantic nature beneath the surface. Your marriage was intended for monetary purposes and those alone.

“You hardly even gave us a chance.”

“Clark, we were in an arrangement,” you remind him. “A mutually beneficial agreement for both of us.”

“Which has since fallen through.”

“And I am sorry about that —”

“Then come home,” he says again, eyes intent on your face. “Come. Home.”

“This is my home,” you whisper, catching the sight of Steve walking by in the window. His eyes immediately narrow at the sight of Clark across from you.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Clark lets out a bitter laugh as Steve appears in the doorway, approaching your table cautiously. “This is the guy you ran out on me with. Him? You’re choosing him. What can he offer you that I cannot?”

——

i don’t know, what can steve offer that clark can’t? you’ll find out monday. hehe 😉

[manias-wordcount]

Unless You Try (Seishiro Nagi x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗼𝘁

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?  

It’s after school. You’re tired from a long day hard at work caring for your friends and acquaintances alike. The praise for all your effort and the constant stream of “thank yous” throughout the day is what got you to this point. But as you make your way down the steps of one of the more unused stairwells in the entire school, you remind yourself that there’s just one more task left. Even though the school grounds are practically empty except for those at their extracurriculars, there’s still more to be done. Even though every window you pass by bathes you in that warm, orange-tinted light that always seems to indicate it’s time to go home, you know you’re not finished just yet.

 All in a day’s work for a class representative, you suppose.

 Before you know it, you’re hearing your footsteps echo down the steps for a few seconds after you’ve come to a stop. There’s nothing but silence that follows you afterward. Silence, and the tiniest sounds of buttons being pressed. At this point, you know you don’t even have to look to see him there. But because you told your good friend Reo you would and because you wanted to, you turned on your heel and leaned against the stair rail to face your target head-on. 

 Well, as head-on as you could anyways.

 “I thought I’d find you here,” you murmured, a light smile on your face. For a second, his eyes glance up at you beneath his long, white bangs. You meet his gray eyes for just a moment, and you swear that’s enough time for them to soften. Even if just a little bit. Even if it’s just something that could only exist in your imagination. But all too soon, his eyes flicker downwards and he’s back to being nose-deep into whatever game you found him playing on one of his portable gaming systems. You let out a sigh. “You know Nagi…Mikage really wants you to come to practice today. It just started too, so you have time to get ready and come if you want to!”

 For a while, another period of silence follows when he doesn’t immediately respond. A breath passes. Then another. And another. Then one more. And another one after that. It’s a never-ending feeling, really. There’s nothing left for you to do but play with your fingers and tug at the ends of your blazer. You’re stuck just waiting for him to open his mouth. Waiting for him to acknowledge you further. You’re counting seconds as they pass you by. Watching the light from his game illuminate his face in a whole host of pretty colors. Part of you knows that you could stand here forever. The other part of you knows that the two of you are better off if you could get Nagi to practice. But it doesn’t make this moment any less hard. To convince him to go. To convince yourself to stop staring. To convince both of you that-

 “Don’t feel like it.”

 Nagi’s dull, monotone voice breaks you from your jumbled thoughts. It’s such a delayed response that it sends you sputtering for a few seconds before you remember what you just requested him to do. At that, your face twists up in a pout that you just can’t seem to wipe off your face. You know getting him to practice is hard. It’s always been hard. This isn’t your first rodeo. But this time, you’re tired and you’re ready to go home and you don’t want to accidentally take out any frustration on him. Though it’s hard. Very, very hard.

 “Nagi,” You try again, giving him the best student-representative smile you could manage at the moment. You try to keep your voice quiet. You try to keep your voice kind. But you feel seconds away from losing your usual sense of calmness and exchanging it for something a little less friendly and inviting. “Mikage really needs you to come to practice, okay?”

 “Hmm…” The reluctant prodigy gives you an absent hum. Almost as if he’s considering your request. Until, finally, he speaks again. “...I’ll pass.”

 You sigh again, the smile slipping off your face in an instant and being replaced with a look of defeat. As much as you appreciate his presence, you know he’s a real piece of work. As cute as you’ve always thought he was (and as big as your crush is on him, but that’s not the point right now), you could do without his usual nonchalance. At least, in moments like these. It’s bad enough when you’re trying to convince him to turn in enough work to pass his classes. But with soccer, he’s even more of a challenge. No matter how much you and Reo and others try to convince him that he’s talented. That he’s gifted. That he could turn his skill into an amazing career, but he never seems to listen. He never seems to want it as much as others want it for him. To at least try. That’s all you want him to do. 

 Just try.

 When you don’t have any to say back to him for a while, you began to notice a small change. A shift in his expression. A fold in his attitude. And once again, his eyes flick upwards. Just for a second. Almost as if to gauge your reaction to what he said earlier. This time, you can’t make yourself meet his eyes. You just can’t. You’re too tired. You want to go home already. You want to change out of your uniform. To eat dinner and to start your homework. You want to leave this stairwell knowing that he’s in good hands. That’s doing the best he can at practice. So you don’t have to worry about him anymore. So you don’t have to think about him anymore. At least for the rest of the night. But it’s not that easy with him. It never is. 

 Even so, you refuse to give up. 

 “Nagi, I think…”

 You refuse not to try. At least one last time.

 “...I think you should go for the last half, at least.” 

 It’s no surprise when he doesn’t respond right away. It’s what you were expecting. But it’s your one last push before you give up for the day. One last push before you find yourself going home, going to sleep, and waking up to find yourself on a day like today- relieving this moment over and over again. But you put too much effort in to walk away now. You put too much effort in to leave it for another day. For another hour. 

 For another you. 

 “I know you don’t want to, but please go, okay? A lot of people need you there. So, do it for them, alright? If not, then…” You continue with a murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. At this point, the sky has changed. It’s a little bit darker- with more reds and pinks and purples than what you saw when you first started out to find him. Your fingers tug at the ends of your blazer once more and your eyes continue to look away. If you had the strength to look at him, you maybe would have noticed how he looked at you in that moment. How his eyes truly did soften. For longer than a moment. “Do it for me, Nagi, okay? Do it for me.”

 For longer than a minute.

 “Fine.”

 And only for you.

 “I’ll go.”

 You look up in surprise, but he’s already turned off his game and shoved it in his pocket while standing up from the corner he was tucked in. As he straightens to his full, impressive height, you can tell he still looks disinterested. Like this is the last thing he wants to be doing right now. Like the fact that he’s so gifted is such an incredible burden to bear. But deep down inside, you like to think that there’s at least some part of himself that appreciates all that you and Mikage do for him. It’s the part of you that likes to think that maybe one day, you won’t just be his class representative to him. That you could be something more. But like with this moment, you may never know. You may never reach that point. You may never hear that answer. Never. Unless you keep at it. Unless you give it your all. And most importantly?

 “I’ll go. Only if you start calling me Seishiro.”

 Unless you try.